Division. 


D$4\3 


Section 


gale  bicentennial  publications 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW 


gale  bicentennial  publications 


With  the  approval  of  the  President  and  Fellows 
of  Tale  University , a series  of  volumes  has  been 
prepared  by  a number  of  the  Professors  and  In- 
structors, to  be  issued  in  connection  with  the 
Bicentennial  Anniversary , as  a partial  indica- 
tion of  the  character  of  the  studies  in  which  the 
University  teachers  are  engaged. 


This  series  of  volumes  is  respectfully  dedicated  to 

2TI )t  ^raUuatcs;  of  t^e  HUmbersttp 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2016 


https://archive.org/details/indiaoldnewwithm00hopk_0 


\ 

INDIA 

OLD  AND  NEW 

WITH  A 

MEMORIAL  ADDRESS 


E.  WASHBURN  HOPKINS,  M.A.,  Ph.d., 


Professor  of  Sanskrit  at  Yale  University 


NEW  YORK:  CHARLES  SCRIBNER’S  SONS 
LONDON:  EDWARD  ARNOLD 
1902 


Copyright , 1901, 

By  Yale  University 

Published,  December , iqoi 


UNIVERSITY  PRESS  • JOHN  WILSON 
AND  SON  • CAMBRIDGE,  U.  S.  A. 


PREFACE. 


Of  the  eleven  separate  papers  here  brought  together,  three 
have  previously  been  published  in  full,  — that  on  Guilds  in 
the  Yale  Review,  May  and  August,  1898;  that  on  Land- 
tenure  in  the  Political  Science  Quarterly,  December,  1898 ; 
and  that  on  Gods,  under  the  title,  “ How  Gods  are  made  in 
India,”  in  the  New  World,  March,  1899.  The  editors  of  these 
journals  have  kindly  granted  me  permission  to  republish  the 
articles.  I am  also  indebted  to  the  editor  of  the  Forum  for 
the  same  courtesy  in  respect  to  the  political  paragraphs  in  the 
account  of  the  Plague  which,  excerpted  from  the  unpublished 
original,  appeared  in  the  Forum,  August,  1897.  The  essay 
on  Land-tenure,  owing  to  Mr.  Baden-Powell’s  last  book,  has 
been  changed  in  some  regards ; and,  as  editor  of  the  Journal 
of  the  Oriental  Society,  I have  given  myself  permission  to 
add  to  the  article  on  Gods  a complementary  paper,  which 
was  published  in  the  Journal  the  same  year  under  the  title, 
“Economics  of  Primitive  Religion.”  The  rest  of  the  vol- 
ume consists  of  addresses  delivered  before  sundry  general 
audiences  during  the  last  two  years.  One,  that  on  Christ 
in  India,  was  first  read  before  a small  club  in  1898,  and 
afterwards  expanded  to  its  present  form  as  parts  of  lectures 
delivered  at  the  Harvard  Summer  School  of  Theology  and 
the  Yale  Divinity  School,  in  the  summer  of  1900  and  spring 
of  1901,  respectively. 


PREFACE. 


viii 

Since  this  book  is  not  intended  for  a special  public,  I have 
made  no  attempt  to  give  a scientific  transliteration  of  Sanskrit 
letters,  except  in  the  rare  cases  where  a whole  text  is  cited. 
There  seems  to  be  no  reason  why  a popular  exposition  should 
retain  diacritical  signs  which  are  meaningless  to  the  reader, 
or  mark  quantitative  values  in  Sanskrit  vowels  any  more  than 
in  the  Greek.  Since  we  write  Athene  and  Electra,  we  may 
properly  write  Rama  and  Krishna,  as  the  confusion  of  quan- 
tities will  scarcely  disturb  the  specialist,  and  will  disturb  the 
non-specialist  still  less.  My  simple  rule  has  been  to  give  the 
simplest  form ; but  in  the  index,  and  here  and  there  in  the 
notes,  to  satisfy  a possible  curiosity,  I have  added  to  this 
popular  form  a more  precise  rendering  of  its  phonetic  values. 
Anglo-Indian  terms  like  cherry-merry  have  been  kept  as  they 
are  written  in  Anglo-Indian,  — that  is  to  say,  as  they  are 
sometimes  written,  for  the  same  book  or  newspaper  will  fre- 
quently transcribe  the  same  original  in  two  or  three  ways. 
As  Sanskrit  c is  pronounced  like  ch  in  church,  I have 
preferred  k in  such  words  as  Kutch ; but  in  other  respects  I 
have  not  tried  to  be  pedantically  consistent  at  the  cost  of 
clearness,  and  have,  for  example,  written  Poona,  as  it  is  usu- 
ally written,  not  Puna,  as  it  logically  should  be  written  by 
one  who,  out  of  the  Anglo-Indian  versions  of  the  word  for 
town,  pore , poor,  pur,  selects  the  one  nearest  to  the  native 
form.  The  Sanskrit  sonant  aspirates  bh,  dh,  gh , are  pro- 
nounced as  in  abhor,  adhere,  leghorn ; the  corresponding 
surds,  ph,  th,  kh,  as  in  uphill,  at-home,  oak-hall. 


October,  1901. 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 

Page 

Memorial  Address  in  Honor  of  Professor  Salisbury  . 3 

The  Rig  Veda 23 

The  Early  Lyric  Poetry  of  India 36 

Sanskrit  Epic  Poetry 67 

A Study  of  Gods 92 

Christ  in  India 120 

Ancient  and  Modern  Hindu  Guilds 169 

Land-tenure  in  India 206 

The  Cause  and  Cure  of  Famine 230 

The  Plague 265 

New  India 333 

Index 337 


MEMORIAL  ADDRESS 


IX  HONOR  OF 

PROFESSOR  SALISBURY. 


EDWARD  ELBRIDGE  SALISBURY. 


The  subject  of  the  following  memoir  was  born  April  6,  1814,  in  Boston, 
Mass.  He  was  the  son  of  Josiah  and  Abigail  (Breese)  Salisbury.  On 
his  father’s  side  he  was  of  Euglish  ancestry;  on  his  mother’s,  of  Hugue- 
not descent.  He  was  graduated  from  Yale  in  1832.  He  passed  four 
years  thereafter  in  study,  particularly  theological  study,  at  New  Haven. 
In  1836  he  married  his  cousin,  Abigail  Salisbury  Phillips,  daughter  of 
Edward  Phillips  of  Boston,  and  immediately  afterward  went  to  Europe, 
where  he  spent  nearly  four  years  iu  the  study  of  Oriental  languages. 
He  was  a pupil  of  de  Sacy  and  Garcin  de  Tassy  in  Paris,  and  of  Bopp 
in  Berlin.  Soon  after  his  return  to  America,  in  1841,  he  was  appointed 
Professor  of  Arabic  and  Sanskrit  at  Yale.  He  accepted  the  appointment, 
but  did  not  at  once  assume  the  duties  of  the  office,  as  he  wished  to  spend 
another  year  in  study.  He  therefore  went  to  Germany  iu  1842,  and  spent 
a winter  reading  Sanskrit  with  Lasseu  in  Bonn  and  Burnouf  in  Paris.  He 
surrendered  his  Sanskrit  work  to  his  former  pupil,  W.  D.  Whitney,  in 
1854,  at  the  same  time  establishing  the  Sanskrit  professorship  by  mak- 
ing a permanent  provision  for  the  chair.  The  Arabic  chan-  he  retained 
till  1856,  when  his  official  connection  with  the  University  ceased.  The 
years  1857  and  1870  he  spent  in  travel  in  Europe.  Professor  Salisbury’s 
first  wife  died  in  1869.  In  1871  he  married  the  daughter  of  Judge  Charles 
J.  McCurdy  of  Lyme,  Connecticut,  Evelyn  McCurdy,  who  survives  him. 
Professor  Salisbury  died  in  his  eighty-seventh  year,  February  5,  1901. 
He  was  a life-member  of  the  American  Oriental  Society  for  nearly  sixty 
years.  From  1846  to  1857  he  was  its  corresponding  secretary,  and 
president  of  the  Society  from  1863  to  1866,  and  again  from  1873  to  1880. 
This  memorial  was  presented  February  16,  1901,  at  Yale  University. 


MEMORIAL  ADDRESS  IN  HONOR  OF 
PROFESSOR  SALISBURY. 


It  is  fitting:  that  on  the  death  of  a man  who  has  lived  revered 
we  should  pause  in  our  busy  work  and  for  an  hour  at  least 
make  piety  our  occupation.  Whether  such  a token  of  respect 
mean  anything  to  him  we  honor,  we  cannot  know ; but  for 
ourselves  it  is  a gratification  to  pay  the  tribute,  though  this 
he  merely  to  recall  his  past.  Yet  what  better  tribute  can  we 
offer  to  the  memory  of  any  man  than  with  thankful  thoughts 
to  look  back  upon  his  life,  knowing  that  he  has  spent  it  well 
and  that  not  age  alone  has  made  him  venerable  ? For  so  his 
life  becomes  its  own  encomium. 

But  to  review  completely  the  career  even  of  a contemporary 
is  not  easy,  and  it  is  more  difficult  in  the  case  of  one  who  has 
labored  chiefly  during  years  so  long  gone  by  that  they  seem  to 
belong  to  an  epoch  already  far  distant.  To  envisage  such  a 
life,  to  recognize  its  true  value,  we  must  begin  with  seeking 
to  understand  the  environment  in  which  it  started. 

Let  us,  then,  consider  first  of  all  the  conditions  under  which 
Mr.  Salisbury  rose  to  he  the  leader  of  Oriental  scholarship  in 
this  country.  For  in  awaking  and  directing  the  energies  of 
those  under  him,  as  in  opening  to  his  colleagues  in  America 
vistas  of  which  they  had  been  practically  ignorant,  he  well 
deserves  this  title  of  leader.  It  was  a time  when  the  intellec- 
tual activities  of  the  country,  in  so  far  as  they  concerned 
themselves  with  the  Orient  at  all,  were  busied  almost  exclu- 
sively with  missionary  work  abroad  and  with  the  wisdom 
of  the  Hebrews  here.  Indian  and  Arabic  literatures  were 
ignored  well-nigh  completely,  and  Persian  antiquities  inter- 
ested none.  There  was  no  medium  of  communication  between 


4 


MEMORIAL  ADDRESS  IN  HONOR  OF 


Oriental  scholars,  neither  a society  for  mutual  intercourse  and 
exchange  of  ideas  nor  a journal  for  the  propagation  of  new 
knowledge.  Such  a thing  as  a Sanskrit  professorship  was 
unknown  in  this  country  and  scarcely  known  elsewhere.  It 
is  true  that  Oriental  scholarship  had  already  been  placed  upon 
a firm  basis,  and  that,  for  example,  our  own  President  Woolsey 
studied  Arabic  abroad  in  the  twenties.  But  there  was  no  one 
in  this  country  who  had  entered  con  amove  into  the  newly 
blazed  path  of  study,  nor  was  there  yet,  even  in  Europe,  any 
general  recognition  on  the  part  of  the  Universities  of  the 
intrinsic  value  of  Hindu  and  Iranian  literatures.  To  wake 
an  interest  at  home  there  was  required  some  one  who  should 
primarily  appreciate  the  value  of  Oriental  research,  and  then, 
quite  as  important  a point,  make  others  appreciate  it. 

The  man  was  needed  and  he  came ; a scholar  by  instinct, 
who,  self-impelled,  sought  his  own  training  and  got  it  from 
the  best  masters.  To  do  this,  as  is  clear  from  the  conditions  I 
have  just  outlined,  it  was  imperative  to  seek  teachers  abroad. 
When  he  returned,  after  he  had  acquired  from  Bopp,  Garcin 
de  Tassy,  and  de  Sacy  the  knowledge  he  had  sought,  he  came 
back  the  only  scholar  of  his  kind  in  America. 

Let  me  not  be  misunderstood,  however,  for  I would  not 
seem  to  exaggerate.  Mr.  Salisbury  was  at  that  time  the  only 
scholar  of  his  kind  in  America,  but  he  was  not  a Rama  com- 
parable only  with  Rama,  in  the  sense  of  being  a great  special- 
ist, a recognized  maker  of  science.  He  himself  would  have 
smiled  gently  at  the  ascription  of  such  futile  praise.  He 
never  tried,  for  example,  to  take  the  place  later  occupied  by 
Mr.  Whitney.  His  work  was  not  such  as  to  control  the 
course  of  scientific  inquiry ; but  he  was  leader,  and  at  first 
unique  leader,  not  only  in  being  best  fitted,  but  in  actively 
calling  others  to  Oriental  work.  Moreover,  his  taste  was 
literary  and  historical  rather  than  philological  in  the  narrower 
sense.  But  when  our  philological  work  is  completed,  then  the 
old  knowers  of  literature  will  appear  more  clearly  than  now 
as  precursors  over  this  new  province,  and  we  shall  not  ask 
what  strictly  linguistic  work  Mr.  Salisbury  accomplished,  or 


PROFESSOR  SALISBURY. 


5 


whether  he  edited  any  Sanskrit  texts ; but  we  shall  wonder 
the  more  at  the  ripe  scholarship  which  understood  and  appre- 
ciated Sanskrit  literature,  and  not  only  Sanskrit  but  Arabic 
literature ; which  scholarship,  as  a labor  of  love  or  duty,  did 
even  edit  Arabic  texts ; while  also,  in  a missionary  spirit,  it 
expounded  Persian  cuneiform  inscriptions  ; and  yet  found  its 
chief  pleasure  not  in  such  work  as  this,  but  in  absorbing 
through  the  medium  of  the  literature  the  life  and  thought  of 
■antiquity  — so  thoroughly  that  it  was  able  to  give  a clear 
synopsis  of  special  linguistic  work ; so  broadly  that  it  com- 
prehended with  appreciation  the  characteristics  of  two  great 
and  dissimilar  nationalities.  “ Professor  of  Arabic  and  San- 
skrit,” — that  is  a title  as  incongruous  to  our  modern  ears  as 
would  be  professor  of  Greek  and  Chinese.  He  who  bore 
such  a title  bore  more  than  our  specialists  would  venture  to 
assume,  even  in  name ; but  he  bore  it  in  reality,  worthily, 
conscientiously,  as  he  did  all  things,  and  despite  the  increas- 
ing weight  of  the  intellectual  burden,  though  he  eventually 
abandoned  both  titles,  he  ever  retained  his  interest  in  these 
two  fields  and  took  note  as  far  as  it  was  possible  of  what 
was  doing  in  both. 

Mr.  Salisbury,  though  not  a specialist,  yet  shared,  as  I have 
said,  in  the  more  recondite  label's  of  his  profession.  And  I 
would  emphasize  the  fact  that  in  so  doing  he  never  failed 
to  be  scrupulously  scientific  in  his  method ; nor  did  ever  the 
genial  plea  of  “ having  a more  general  interest  in  the  subject  ” 
serve  him  as  excuse  for  slovenly  work.  But  there  is  more 
to  add,  for  Mr.  Salisbury  not  only  entered  into  abstruse  sub- 
jects, but,  standing  midway  in  age  between  President  Woolsey 
and  Professor  James  Hadley,  he  joined  with  them  in  that 
uplifting  of  professorial  aims  which  leads  the  scholar  to  look 
on  investigation  and  the  publication  of  the  results  of  study, 
not  merely  as  works  of  supererogation,  but  as  a requisite 
concomitant  of  his  professorship.  But  what  at  that  far-distant 
day  was  this  elevation  of  aims?  It  was  nothing  less  than 
the  creation  in  America  of  the  University  ideal  in  contrast 
with  that  of  the  school  and  college.  So  I think  it  is  no  little 


6 


MEMORIAL  ADDRESS  IN  HONOR  OF 


glory  to  him  that,  favored  by  fortune  to  be  beyond  the  need 
of  toil,  Mr.  Salisbury  should  not  only  have  devoted  himself 
to  unremitting  labor  from  the  outset  of  bis  career,  but  also 
have  been  foremost  in  publishing  the  results  of  bis  special 
stucbes  in  stimulative  essays;  and  it  was  no  accident,  but  the 
logical  outcome  of  this,  that,  to  bis  own  honor,  but  also  to  the 
honor  of  Yale,  be  virtually  made  himself  the  first  “ University 
Professor  ” in  America ; for  such  from  its  inception  was  really 
bis  academic  position. 

Among  the  cherished  possessions  of  my  library  is  a volume, 
the  Miscellanea  published  by  Mr.  Salisbury  between  1840 
and  1876,  from  the  age  of  twenty-six  to  sixty-two.  I prize 
it,  not  as  a mine  of  information,  but  again  not  merely  because 
of  personal  associations ; for  it  is  at  the  same  time  an  index 
of  the  growth  of  Oriental  studies  during  the  last  century, 
and  a reflex,  not  without  its  lesson,  of  the  mind  from  which 
these  essays  sprang.  There  are  here  no  technical  studies,  no 
statistics,  almost  no  investigation  in  the  confined  sense  we 
give  to  that  word  to-day.  The  articles  are  in  general 
descriptive,  resumes  of  knowledge,  maps  of  thought.  Mr. 
Salisbury’s  scientific  bent  was,  as  I have  said,  pre-eminently 
historical.  He  loved,  moreover,  to  survey  from  the  height 
the  road  made  by  others,  rather  than  dig  at  that  road  him- 
self. For  this  reason  he  has  left  little  in  the  way  of  subtle 
monographs,  but  many  comprehensive  reviews.  Yet  just 
this  attitude  of  mind,  when  such  a mind  devotes  itself  to  in- 
struction, is  especially  valuable,  not  only  in  giving  a fasci- 
natingly broad  view  at  the  outset  to  the  student  who  is  to 
toil  upon  the  road  of  progress  or  the  field  of  research,  but  in 
revealing  to  him,  as  he  advances,  the  bearing  of  each  form 
of  work  toward  every  other. 

But  you  must  not  think  that  Mr.  Salisbury,  in  rather 
avoiding  the  technique  of  science,  lacked  a just  estimate  of 
this  side  of  scholarship.  His  was  not  the  complacent  mind 
that  boasts  of  breadth  and  betrays  its  narrowness  by  belittling 
the  word  of  the  specialist.  In  fact,  from  Mr.  Salisbury’s 
Inaugural  Address  I think  it  is  clear  that  he  intended  to 


PROFESSOR  SALISBURY.  7 

devote  himself  as  a duty  to  details  of  study  ; hut  this  would 
have  been  impossible  in  his  case  even  had  he  possessed  the 
temperament.  For  when  the  appointment  to  the  professor- 
ship of  Arabic  and  Sanskrit  was  made,  that  bipartite  province 
could  still  be  controlled  by  one  man.  But  almost  synchron- 
ously with  the  appointment  began  to  appear  in  both  fields  a 
series  of  studies  so  special  and  elaborate,  each  province  be- 
sides became  so  enlarged,  that  no  single  scholar  could  longer 
command  it.  A general  knowledge  of  what  was  going  on  in 
each  was  all  that  any  one  could  attain  unless  he  sacrificed 
one  of  the  two. 

I should  like,  however,  to  read  you  an  extract  from  this 
Inaugural  of  1843,  when  the  young  scholar  of  twenty-nine 
years  was  just  entering  upon  his  life-work,  and  I think  you 
will  admit  not  only  that  he  had  a generous  conception  of 
scientific  work,  but  also  that  he  intended  to  exercise  all  the 
functions  of  a scholar.  After  “ sketching  the  department  of 
Sanskrit  and  Arabic  literatures,”  he  says : “You  perceive, 
gentlemen,  that  my  field  of  study  is  broad  and  requires  much 
minuteness  of  research  in  order  to  know  it  thoroughly.  I 
profess  only  to  have  set  foot  upon  it,  to  have  surveyed  its 
extent,  to  have  resolved  to  spend  my  days  in  its  research, 
believing  as  I do  that  it  may  yield  rich  and  valuable  fruits, 
and  to  do  what  may  be  in  my  power  to  attract  others  into  it, 
though  I am  aware  I must  expect  to  labor,  for  a time,  almost 
alone.”  And  let  me  add,  as  characteristic  of  the  modesty 
and  breadth  of  the  true  scholar,  the  words  that  follow  these : 
“ I would  earnestly  ask  of  you  all  to  bear  with  my  weaknesses, 
to  be  patient  with  my  slowness  in  doing  all  that  I ought  to 
do  to  honor  my  place,  and  to  allow  me  to  find  refuge  from 
the  feeling  of  loneliness  and  discouragement  in  your  sympa- 
thizing recognition  that  each  department  of  knowledge  is 
kindred  with  every  other,  — the  sentiment  which  should 
pervade  every  great  Institution  of  learning,  — and  which  I 
would  myself  cultivate,  while  I shall  eagerly  seek  to  add 
brightness  to  my  flickering  lamp  from  the  shining  lights 
about  me.” 


8 


MEMORIAL  ADDRESS  IN  HONOR  OF 


In  a note  to  this  address,  besides  the  arguments  adduced  in 
the  Inaugural  itself,  an  additional  reason  for  the  study  of 
Sanskrit  is  offered  in  the  missionary’s  want  of  proper  native 
words  with  which  to  present  the  claims  of  Christianity,  a want 
that  can  be  filled  better  by  scholars  in  this  country  than  by 
the  busy  missionary  in  India,  “ and  thus  might  one  at  home 
with  his  Sanskrit  serve  the  living  God.”  On  the  side  of  Mr. 
Salisbury’s  character  which  is  shown  in  his  simple  Christian 
spirit  I have  no  competence  to  speak.  This  is  the  part  of 
those  yvho  have  been  privileged  to  know  him  longer  and 
more  intimately.  But  it  was  so  much  in  and  of  him  that  I 
cannot  ignore  it  altogether  even  in  speaking  of  his  position 
as  a scholar,  and  this  quaint  note  on  serving  God  with  Sans- 
krit is  perhaps  sufficiently  expressive  to  show  how  to  him  a 
useful  life  was  inseparable  from  one  of  religious  endeavor. 

The  year  after  this  Inaugural  was  written,  the  young  pro- 
fessor, then  just  thirty,  read  at  the  Meeting  of  the  American 
Oriental  Society  held  on  May  28,  1844,  a long  paper  on  the 
history  of  Buddhism.  He  had  “ heard  a Memoir  on  the  Ori- 
gin of  Buddhism  read  by  M.  Burnouf  before  the  French 
Institute  in  the  spring  of  1848,”  and  fresh  from  this  personal 
impression  made  by  the  great  foreign  scholar,  he  who  had 
heard  Burnouf  attempted  the  task  of  inspiring  others  with 
his  own  interest.  Such  independent  observations  as  are 
strewn  through  this  long  study  are  thoroughly  sound.  They 
show,  not  new  knowledge  of  detail,  but  insight.  Many  of 
them  are  such  as  to  pass  unnoticed  to-day,  but  that  is  only 
because  we  know  more  than  was  known  in  1844.  Of  this 
sort,  for  example,  is  the  remark  that  Buddhist  doctrines  are 
an  outgrowth  of  Brahmanism,  a statement  which  only  subse- 
quent work  could  verify.  Another  point  touched  upon  is  in 
the  refutation  on  four  formal  grounds  of  the  theory  that 
Buddha  was  the  creation  of  a philosophical  mythology,  a dis- 
cussion which  anticipates  by  decades  recent  investigations 
and  theories. 

The  studious  care  of  the  writer  of  this  article  is  shown  in 
the  many  references  to  works  consulted  by  him,  German, 


PROFESSOR  SALISBURY. 


9 


French,  and  English,  up  to  the  time  of  its  delivery.  Some 
of  these  works  are  now  classics ; at  that  time  the  young 
scholar  had  just  seen  them  fresh  from  the  press  and  thought 
they  “ promised  to  be  valuable.”  It  is  of  this  paper  that  Mr. 
Whitney  said  that  it  was  the  first  really  scientific  paper  pre- 
sented to  the  Oriental  Society. 

How  wide  was  Mr.  Salisbury’s  interest  in  the  Orient  may 
be  seen  from  his  painstaking  study  on  the  Chinese  origin  of 
the  compass,  read  before  the  Connecticut  Society  of  Arts  and 
Sciences  in  1840.  It  is  an  abstract  from  Klaproth’s  letter  to 
Humboldt,  but  it  involves  a careful  investigation  of  an  intri- 
cate subject.  Again,  in  1848,  in  a report  of  the  Directors, 
which  is  virtually  a recommendation  to  the  Oriental  Society, 
Mr.  Salisbury  urges  the  importance  of  Egyptology  and  the 
desirability  of  making  excavations  at  Nineveh ; while  in  the 
same  recommendation  occurs  the  following  notable  paragraph, 
which  I think  will  be  of  especial  interest  to  all  classical  stu- 
dents : “ But  as  an  indispensable  condition  of  this  advance  of 
knowledge,  the  writings  of  the  Greeks  and  the  Biblical  records 
relating  to  Assyria  and  the  data  of  the  newly- discovered 
Assyrian  monuments,  must  all  be  brought  together,  for  mu- 
tual explanation,  and  to  supply  each  other’s  deficiencies.  . . . 
The  concentration  of  oriental  and  classical  studies  has  shed 
light  upon  many  obscurities,  and  is  destined  to  do  this  still 
more  in  the  future.  There  is  then  an  evident  propriety  in 
oriental  and  classical  scholars  being  associated  together,  for 
the  more  successful  prosecuting  of  those  investigations  in 
which  they  have  a common  interest,  and  accordingly  this 
Society  embraces  classical  members,  besides  such  as  interest 
themselves  in  oriental  researches,  specially  considered. 

“ But  something  more  seems  necessary,  in  order  that  these 
two  elements  united  in  our  association  may  be  brought  to  a 
reciprocity  of  action.  It  has,  therefore,  been  proposed  [i.  e. 
Mr.  Salisbury  proposes]  to  create  within  this  Society,  a 
special  organization  for  the  promotion  of  classical  learning,  in 
its  various  bearings  upon  oriental  [sc.  subjects].  The  sim- 
plest method  of  executing  the  proposition  in  question,  would 


10 


MEMORIAL  ADDRESS  IN  HONOR  OF 


seem  to  be  to  create  by  election  from  among  the  members  of 
the  Society  a Classical  Section,  to  have  in  view  especially, 
and  to  have  charge  over,  the  classical  side  of  oriental 
subjects.” 

I have  read  this  long  extract,  not  only  to  show  you  Mr. 
Salisbury’s  catholicity,  but  because  I think  it  of  peculiar 
interest  that  he  who  has  done  so  much  for  Orientalists  should 
also  be  the  one  to  initiate  the  founding  of  the  Philological 
Association.  For  our  present  Philological  Association  is  but  the 
later  growth  of  the  Classical  Section  which  Mr.  Salisbury  here- 
with brought  into  existence.  It  is  perhaps  to  be  too  curious 
to  ask  whether  the  Modern  Language  and  Dialect  Societies,  or 
again  the  Archaeological  Society,  all  offshoots  of  the  Philolog- 
ical Association,  may  not  be  traced  to  the  same  source  ; and 
it  must,  of  course,  be  admitted  that  the  creation  of  a philo- 
logical society,  either  as  a Chapter  of  the  Oriental  or  as  an 
independent  body,  could  not  have  been  long  delayed,  and 
that  such  an  association  as  we  have  now  was  not  dependent 
upon  the  action  of  the  Oriental  Society.  All  this  is  true,  but 
the  fact  remains  that  all  these  societies,  historically  consid- 
ered, sprang  from  the  Report  to  the  Directors  of  the  Oriental 
Society,  which  was  accepted  at  the  Quarterly  Meeting  on 
January  5,  1848,  twenty-one  years  before  the  Philological 
Association  became  incorporated ; for  till  then  the  latter 
remained,  under  the  name  of  Classical  Section,  a minor  at 
home  with  the  parent  society. 

Although  Mr.  Salisbury’s  title  was  “ Professor  of  Arabic 
and  Sanskrit,”  he  included  in  his  studies,  with  his  usual 
breadth  of  vision,  Persian  as  a close  relative  of  Sanskrit,  and 
in  the  fourth  part  of  the  first  volume  of  the  Oriental  Journal 
he  published  a remarkably  clear  and  correct  essay  on  the 
Identification  of  the  Signs  of  the  Persian  Cuneiform  Alpha- 
bet (1849).  The  writer,  to  repeat  his  own  words,  will  only 
“ communicate  results  obtained  ” by  other  scholars,  and  the 
paper  is  not  a contribution  of  original  material ; but  it  de- 
serves mention  particularly  because  it  shows  that  Mr.  Salis- 
bury had  already  worked  his  way  through  Lassen,  Burnouf, 


PROFESSOR  SALISBURY. 


11 


Rawlinson,  and  tlie  more  recent  Beitrage  zur  ErMarung  der 
JPersischen  Keilinschriften  of  Adolph  Holtzmann,  Die  Per- 
sischen  Keilinschriften  of  Benfey  (1847),  and  to  have  known 
of  Oppert’s  Lautsystem  des  Altpersischen  (1848),  although, 
properly  speaking,  the  whole  subject  lay  apart  from  his 
official  field  of  research. 

On  the  Arabic  side,  Mr.  Salisbury  was  particularly  active, 
publishing  first  a Translation  of  unpublished  Arabic  Docu- 
ments, with  introduction  and  notes,  first  read  before  the 
Oriental  Society  in  October,  1849,  an  independent  but  not 
the  most  original  work  presented  by  him ; since  in  1852  he 
read  a critique  of  the  genuineness  of  the  so-called  Nestorian 
monument  of  Singanfu.  Here  he  had  to  give  a digest  of  the 
views  of  Abel-R^musat,  Neumann,  Ritter,  and  Neander,  and 
then  “ exhibit  the  true  state  of  the  evidence,”  which  he  does 
clearly  and  concisely. 

Another  paper  on  the  Science  of  Moslem  Tradition  (read 
in  1859  and  published  in  1861)  is  one  of  his  most  scholarly 
efforts,  being  “ gathered  from  original  sources,  either  only  in 
manuscript  or  so  little  accessible  as  to  be  nearly  equivalent 
to  unpublished  authorities  ” (referring  to  Delhi  lithographs). 
The  first  of  these  documents  is  a manuscript  in  the  de  Sacy 
collection,  which  was  now  in  Mr.  Salisbury’s  possession. 
This  was  soon  followed  by  a paper  on  The  Muhammedan 
Doctrines  of  Predestination  and  Free  Will,  from  original 
sources.  These  were,  I think,  articles  especially  agreeable 
to  him  to  write,  essentially  historical,  and  in  that  one  of  his 
two  fields  in  working  which  he  took  perhaps  the  greater 
satisfaction. 

The  same  year,  however,  in  which  was  published  the  former 
of  these  papers,  appeared  in  the  New  Englander  an  article 
apparently  written  in  1858,  printed  by  especial  request  of  the 
editor  and  entitled  Sketch  of  the  Life  and  Works  of  Michael 
Angelo  Buonarroti,  in  which  Mr.  Salisbury  gave  a popular 
account  of  the  great  artist,  quoting  at  the  end  with  especial 
admiration  the  words  of  the  sonnet  composed  by  the  poet 
in  his  old  age  : — 


12 


MEMORIAL  ADDRESS  IN  HONOR  OF 


“Ne  pinger  ne  scolpir  fia  piu  che  queti; 

L’anima  volta  a quell’  amor  divino, 

Ch’  aperse  a prender  noi  in  croce  le  braccia.” 

Mr.  Salisbury,  it  may  be  observed,  had  more  than  a reading 
knowledge  of  Italian,  and  though  he  never  prided  himself 
upon  possessing  linguistic  attainments,  yet  it  is  worth  re- 
cording, especially  in  view  of  the  fact  that  such  ability  was 
very  rare  in  the  first  half  of  the  last  century,  that  he  not  only 
read  Sanskrit,  Persian,  Arabic,  and  Hebrew,  besides,  of  course, 
Greek  and  Latin,  but  spoke  German,  French,  and  Italian. 
Spanish  he  knew  but  slightly,  and  I am  not  sure  -whether 
he  could  speak  it. 

Another  historical  article  was  published  in  the  same 
magazine  — then  one  of  the  leading  literary  journals  of  the 
country — in  1876,  on  some  of  the  Relations  between  Isl&m 
and  Christianity.  But  in  the  meantime  Mr.  Salisbury  had 
published  in  the  Journal,  to  which  he  contributed,  in  all, 
thirty-two  papers,  his  most  extensive  scientific  article,  a 
“Notice  of  the  Book  of  Sulaiman’s  First  Ripe  Fruit”  (read 
at  the  Meetings  of  May  and  October,  1864),  a revelation  of 
the  mysteries  of  the  Nusairian  sect,  the  article  being  a 
critical  interpretation  of  the  titular  work  (which  had  appeared 
that  same  year  in  Beirut),  according  to  copies  forwarded  by 
Dr.  Van  Dyck,  the  able  local  missionary.  This  very  original 
tract  was  written  by  Sulaiman  ’Effendi,  who  appears  in  it  as 
a zealous  convert  to  the  Christian  religion.  But  this  was 
by  no  means  the  first  time  that  SulaimSn  had  undergone  the 
mental  distraction  of  conversion.  Starting  out  as  a Nusairy, 
but  soon  growing  dissatisfied  with  this  religion,  he  soon 
became  a convert  to  Judaism.  This  faith,  however,  also 
failed  to  content  him,  and  he  converted  himself  again,  this 
time  becoming  a Moslem ; after  which,  for  he  had  not  yet 
found  peace,  he  became  converted  to  his  fourth  religion  and 
entered  the  Greek  church.  His  fifth  religion  was  his  last, 
and  as  a member  of  the  Protestant  Christian  church  he  re- 
views the  iniquities  of  his  original  faith  in  the  diatribe 


PROFESSOR  SALISBURY. 


IB 


translated  and  published  by  Mr.  Salisbury.  Such  a work 
would  be  considered  by  many  a find  to  exult  over,  and  had  it 
been  discovered  recently  we  should  doubtless  have  had  the 
Sunday  papers  advertising  the  odd  facts  therein  chronicled, 
such  as  the  present  existence  of  Syrian  moon-worshippers 
and  of  “trinitarian  Muhammedans.”  But  forty  years  ago 
such  methods  were  unknown,  as  they  were  ever  incon- 
ceivable in  connection  with  the  dignified  scholar  who  quietly 
published  his  most  extraordinary  discovery  in  the  current 
number  of  the  Oriental  Journal,  knowing  that,  though  never 
noticed  by  others,  it  would  be  seen  by  those  whose  opinion 
seemed  to  him  of  worth. 

This  last  essay  was  published  after  Mr.  Salisbury  had 
retired  from  his  professorship.  It  is  a tradition  that  his  pre- 
diction of  loneliness  was  in  so  far  fulfilled  as  to  give  him  but 
two  students.  You  know,  however,  what  the  lion  said : 
“ I have  only  one  child  but  he  is  a lion.”  Mr.  Salisbury  at 
least  reared  two  lions.  In  1851,  the  elder  of  his  whilom 
students,  James  Hadley,  had  already  succeeded  Mr.  Woolsey 
as  Professor  of  Greek,  and  to  the  other  Mr.  Salisbury  in 
1854  resigned  his  Sanskrit  work.  The  teacher’s  influence  is 
clearly  perceptible  when  we  read  that  Mr.  Hadley  was  not 
only  versed  in  the  classics,  but  acquainted  with  Hebrew, 
Arabic,  Armenian,  Sanskrit,  and  Keltic ; and  of  Mr.  Whitney 
it  need  only  be  said  that  when  as  a youth,  after  studying 
Sanskrit  for  some  years  by  himself,  he  sought  in  1849  for  one 
to  guide  him  further  in  his  studies,  his  adviser,  who,  it  is 
pleasant  to  add,  was  our  own  venerable  Dr.  Day,  then 
Whitney’s  pastor  in  Northampton,  naturally  referred  him  to 
Mr.  Salisbury,  as  the  only  man  in  the  country  who  could 
teach  him. 

After  the  publication  of  the  last  article  to  which  reference 
has  just  been  made,  Mr.  Salisbury’s  mind  turned  to  new 
fields  of  investigation.  To  him  is  due  the  very  complete 
sketch  of  the  Trumbull  Gallery  in  the  Yale  Book  of  1879; 
while  in  1877  he  had  read  before  the  Art  School  a lecture  on 
the  Principles  of  Domestic  Taste,  which  was  printed  the 


14 


MEMORIAL  ADDRESS  IN  HONOR  OF 


same  year  in  the  New  Englander  — parerga  of  a scholar ; but 
Mr.  Salisbury,  for  many  years  one  of  the  Elective  Members 
of  the  Yale  Art  School,  was  always  interested  in  art,  nearly 
as  much  so  as  in  the  Orient,  and  allowed  none  of  his  faculties 
to  become  atrophied,  so  that  when  his  eyes  could  no  longer 
peruse  texts  his  active  mind  could  still  work  in  other,  yet  not 
unfamiliar  fields. 

The  studies  of  his  later  years  were,  however,  still  of 
historical  sort.  In  1875  he  read  before  the  New  Haven 
Colonial  Historical  Society  a paper,  full  of  minute  inves- 
tigation, on  Mr.  William  Diodate  and  his  Italian  Ancestry 
(printed  in  1876).  Thereafter  genealogical  research  was 
his  chief  occupation,  especially  as  fast  failing  eyesight  pre- 
cluded further  Oriental  study,  whereas  in  genealogical  work 
he  had  the  skilful  and  devoted  assistance  of  his  wife.  In 
1885,  when  over  seventy  years  of  age,  Mr.  Salisbury  pub- 
lished his  (own)  Family  Memorials  ; and  in  1892,  the  Family 
Histories  and  Genealogies  (of  his  wife),  in  several  large 
volumes,  sumptuously  prepared,  and  edited  with  such  atten- 
tion to  details  that  he  is  said  to  have  ordered  a whole 
volume  reprinted  because  of  one  typographical  error. 

Mr.  Salisbury  says  of  his  own  contributions  to  Orientalia 
that  he  published  his  papers  in  the  Journal  of  the  Oriental 
Society  “ more  as  an  amateur-student  than  as  a master  with 
authority.”  But,  as  we  have  seen,  there  was  real  and  rigid 
scholarship  in  all  that  he  presented.  Moreover,  though  not 
perhaps  “ master  with  authority,”  his  abilities  were  fully 
recognized  by  learned  confreres,  as  bears  witness  the  fact  that 
he  was  elected  a member  of  the  Asiatic  Society  of  Paris 
when  he  was  twenty-four  years  old  (1838)  ; of  the  two 
Academies  of  Art  and  Sciences  of  Connecticut  and  Boston  in 
1839  and  1848,  respectively ; a corresponding  member  of 
the  Imperial  Academy  of  Sciences  and  Belles  Lettres  at 
Constantinople  in  1855 ; a corresponding  member  of  the 
German  Oriental  Society  in  1859;  and  of  the  Antiquarian 
Society  in  1861.  He  was  twice  given  the  degree  of  Doctor 
of  Laws,  once  in  1869  by  his  Alma  Mater,  and  again  in  1886 


PROFESSOR  SALISBURY. 


15 


by  Harvard.  It  is  characteristic  of  his  modest  estimate  of 
his  own  ability  and  of  his  love  of  truth  that  he  refused  to 
accept  the  latter  degree  until  the  terms  (employed  in  be- 
stowing it)  in  praise  of  his  own  services  to  science  were  so 
modified  as  to  make  it  possible  for  him  to  admit  that  they 
might  refer  to  himself.  In  1869  Mr.  Salisbury  was  strongly 
urged  to  accept  the  chair  of  Arabic  at  Harvard,  but  no 
inducement  could  tempt  him  away  from  New  Haven. 

In  the  sketch  I have  given  of  Mr.  Salisbury’s  more  impor- 
tant writings  you  have  seen  what  he  was  as  a scholar.  But 
the  energies  thus  early  devoted  to  philology  were  not  allowed 
to  remain  selfishly  employed.  The  young  professor  was  ap- 
pointed in  1841,  and  after  studying  abroad  a second  time,  with 
Lassen  in  Germany  and  Burnouf  in  France,  as  previously  he 
had  studied  with  Bopp  in  Berlin  and  Garcin  de  Tassy  and  de 
Sacy  in  Paris,  he  assumed  the  duties  of  his  office  in  1843.  The 
year  before  this,  chiefly  in  the  interest  of  missionary  work, 
had  been  founded  the  American  Oriental  Society  (1842,  three 
years  before  the  organization  of  the  German  Oriental  Society). 
Into  this  opening  for  new  labor  Mr.  Salisbury,  on  his  return 
from  abroad,  flung  himself  with  ardor.  To  him  it  was  to  be 
a society  which  should  concentrate  activities  till  then  scat- 
tered and  unorganized.  There  are  few  living  who  know  how 
much  Mr.  Salisbury  has  done  for  this  Society.  As  has  been 
said  by  one  of  his  colleagues  in  a recent  review  of  his  life : 
“No  notice  of  Professor  Salisbury  would  be  complete  without 
an  emphatic  recognition  of  his  invaluable  services  in  the 
development  of  that  Society  by  the  unstinted  expenditure  of 
time,  labor,  and  money.”  For  Mr.  Salisbury  not  only  sup- 
ported the  Society,  but  he  contributed  besides  the  constant 
spur  of  his  own  example  in  offering  memoirs,  in  suggesting 
improvements,  and  last  but  not  least  in  being  present  as  a 
duty  at  the  meetings  of  the  Society.  For  eleven  years  he 
was  its  corresponding  secretary  (and  practically  the  editor 
of  its  Journal),  filling  an  arduous  and  thankless  office  with 
constant  fidelity  and  self-sacrificing  devotion;  and  for  ten 
years  he  was  the  Society’s  honored  president. 


16 


MEMORIAL  ADDRESS  IN  HONOR  OF 


Of  his  own  work  in  behalf  of  the  Society  he  himself  says 
merely  that  he  “labored  to  make  its  Journal  the  vehicle  of 
some  valuable  contributions  ...  as  well  as  for  the  general 
prosperity  of  the  Society  — not  wholly  without  success,  due 
in  large  measure  to  the  co-operation  of  learned  American  mis- 
sionaries ” (Class-book  of  1832), — a characteristically  humble 
appraisement.  But  let  us  add  this  to  it,  that  of  his  long  ser- 
vice in  behalf  of  the  Society,  an  active  membership  from  almost 
its  beginning  to  his  death,  nearly  three-score  years,  is  itself 
witness.  Nor  does  that  testimony  stand  alone.  Just  ten  years 
ago  Mr.  Whitney,  who  knew  well  what  Mr.  Salisbury  had 
done  for  the  Oriental  Society,  and  was  the  best  judge  of  its 
value,  wrote  as  follows : “ Professor  Salisbury,  by  his  own 
writings  and  by  the  active  correspondence  which  he  kept  up 
with  American  missionaries,  . . . provided  most  of  the  ma- 
terial for  publication ; he  also  himself  procured  a number  of 
fonts  of  Oriental  type  — mostly  the  first  of  this  kind  in  the 
country,  and  still  in  part  the  only  ones  — for  use  in  printing 
the  Journal ; and,  not  less  in  importance,  he  met  the  expenses 
of  publication  of  volume  after  volume.  ...  For  some  ten 
years,  Professor  Salisbury  was  virtually  the  Society,  doing  its 
work  and  paying  its  bills.  He  gave  it  standing  and  credit  in 
the  world  of  scholars,  as  an  organization  that  could  originate 
and  could  make  public  valuable  material”  (April,  1891). 

Such  also  is  the  testimony  of  a younger  colleague,  Mr. 
Lanman,  who,  six  years  ago  in  his  address  in  memory  of  Mr. 
Whitney,  alluded  to  Mr.  Salisbury  as  the  “ life  and  soul  of 
the  Society,”  during  the  period  of  its  earlier  growth. 

Nor  has  the  Oriental  Society,  either  individually  or  as  a 
body,  ever  forgotten  him,  and  when  by  good  chance  its  meet- 
ing fell  on  his  birthday,  as  has  happened  twice  within  the 
last  few  3'ears,  it  has  been  with  a sense  of  personal  gratifica- 
tion, even  on  the  part  of  members  who  knew  him  only  by  Ins 
works,  that  this  Society  honored  itself  by  sending  him  a con- 
gratulatory telegram.  In  reply  to  one  of  these  despatches, 
sent  two  j'ears  ago,  on  his  eighty-fifth  birthday,  Mr.  Salisbury 
responded  by  sending  his  own  congratulations  to  the  Society 


PROFESSOR  SALISBURY. 


17 


“on  wliat  it  has  grown  to  be  from  its  small  beginnings  of 
more  than  fifty  years  ago,”  — and  there  was  none  that  heard 
the  answer  who  did  not  add  to  these  unassuming  words, 
“ Thanks  largely  to  him  that  sends  the  message.” 

To  appreciate  fully  what  Mr.  Salisbury  has  done  for  Yale 
University  is  no  easy  task.  Nearly  sixty  years  ago,  in  1842, 
he  gave  considerable  sums  for  the  erection  of  a library  build- 
ing, and  subsequently  for  the  erection  of  East  and  West 
Divinity  Halls,  and  for  the  income  of  the  Art  School.  But 
aid  for  building,  great  as  was  that,  was  the  least  of  his 
numerous  benefactions.  For  it  was  through  him  alone  that 
two  of  Yale’s  most  distinguished  professors  were  permanently 
located  where,  in  the  case  of  one,  it  was  most  proper  that  he 
should  he  retained,  at  the  seat  of  the  labors  that  had  already 
made  him  famous ; as  in  the  case  of  the  other  it  was  most 
fortunate  that  the  University  could  thus  secure  for  itself  the 
promise  of  his  future  greatness.  Gladly  would  the  University 
have  been  first  to  induce  the  one  to  remain  and  the  other  to 
come,  but  on  neither  occasion  when  the  need  arose  were  funds 
available  for  the  purpose.  In  each  case  the  prospect  was  that 
Yale  would  fail  to  gain  its  end.  But  Mr.  Salisbury  was 
here,  and  quietly,  unostentatiously,  as  he  did  everything,  he 
said,  “ Let  this  he  my  office.”  And  not  once  but  twice,  out  of 
his  own  means,  he  accomplished  for  the  University  what  the 
University  left  to  itself  would  have  been  unable  to  do.  What 
glory  remains  to  Yale  in  the  names  of  Dana  and  Whitney, — 
and  the  measure  of  a university’s  renown  is  not  in  the  num- 
ber of  its  students,  but  in  the  reputation  of  its  teachers, — this 
glory  as  an  abiding  possession  is  due  to  him  whose  memory 
we  are  here  assembled  to  honor.  “ It  is  a thought  that  may 
interest  us  all,”  said  President  Dwight  in  his  Memorial  Ad- 
dress on  Professors  Dana  and  Whitney  (June,  1895),  “that 
the  two  men  were  alike  secured  for  our  University  by  the 
generous  interposition  of  a friend  of  the  institution,  one  and 
the  same  friend,  whose  liberal  gifts  made  the  remaining  here 
possible  for  them.  This  friend,  now  in  his  serene  old  age, 


18 


MEMORIAL  ADDRESS  IN  HONOR  OF 


survives  them  both,  having  witnessed  with  deepest  satisfac- 
tion the  rich  fruits  of  their  work.  His  scholarly  life  within 
the  University  for  many  years,  and  his  benefactions  bestowed 
during  the  long  course  of  half  a century,  have  accomplished 
much  for  its  well-being  in  many  ways.  But  the  student  of 
our  history  will  ever  recognize  with  a peculiarly  grateful  feel- 
ing, as  he  traces  the  progress  of  this  institution  for  the  last 
forty  years,  the  service  which  was  rendered  by  this  benefactor 
when  he  gave  these  two  generous  gifts,  and  the  names  of 
Professors  Dana  and  Whitney  will  be  closely  associated  in 
his  mind  and  memory  with  the  name  of  Professor  Salisbury, 
their  honored  friend  and  ours.” 

There  is  another  factor  in  the  totality  of  a university’s 
completeness.  The  foundation  of  its  scholarship  lies  in  its 
library.  A university  without  books,  the  best  and  latest, 
is  like  a factory  filled  with  workmen  but  without  works. 
Against  this  deficiency  Mr.  Salisbury  supplied  the  University 
out  of  his  own  store,  first  of  books  and  then  of  ever-present 
assistance.  The  treasures  of  learning  accumulated  by  the 
great  Orientalist  de  Sacy  were  bought  at  his  death  by 
Mr.  Salisbuiy,  who  thus  more  than  sixty  years  ago  laid 
the  foundations  of  the  unrivalled  Oriental  library  of  wrhich 
Yale  boasts  to-day.  For  he  did  not  wait,  as  many  would 
have  done,  to  leave  this  collection  to  the  University,  but 
robbing  himself  of  his  treasure  gave  it  thirty  years  ago  to 
Yale.  Nor  has  there  ever  been  a time  since  then  when  in 
furthering  the  good  work  thus  begun  he  has  failed  to  respond 
most  generously  to  appeals  for  aid.  Only  two  years  ago  a 
collection  of  Oriental  books  was  offered  for  sale  and  there 
was  no  chance  of  the  University  being  able  to  purchase  them. 
I went  to  Air.’  Salisbury  and  laid  the  case  before  him.  The 
sum  demanded  was  large.  “ I can  scarcely  afford  it,”  he 
said,  “but,”  he  added,  “Yale  must  have  the  books  and  I 
will  pay  for  them.”  This  was  his  spirit  always,  and  as  long 
as  he  lived  he  continued  to  give  annually  for  the  support 
of  the  library.  Without  show  or  exploitation,  almost  se- 
cretly, he  aided  continuously  for  more  than  half  a century, 


PROFESSOR  SALISBURY. 


19 


by  his  munificence  as  well  as  by  his  sage  suggestions,  the 
development  of  this  University. 

Thus  as  scholar,  as  member  of  the  Oriental  Society,  and 
finally  as  benefactor  of  Yale  and  of  the  Society  alike,  Mr. 
Salisbury  lived  his  noble  life,  — a life  of  fulness  to  himself 
and  of  much  benefit  to  others,  not  only  in  material  things  but 
also  in  the  mental  stimulus  imparted  by  it  until  its  very  close. 
Such  is  his  record  as  a public  character.  But  to  us  who  knew 
him  there  was  more  than  this,  the  charm  of  his  personality. 
For  he  himself,  the  aged  scholar,  was  ever  crowned  with  such 
a gentle  dignity  and  antique  stately  courtliness  that  even  to 
meet  him  gave  great  pleasure,  as  to  know  him  was  an  intel- 
lectual gain.  But  of  his  kindness  and  of  the  love  felt  for  him 
I may  not  speak,  lest  I come  too  near  the  heart  of  some  here 
present;  yet  even  in  the  case  of  those  not  of  his  family 
the  reverence  felt  for  him  was  indissolubly  associated  with 
affection. 

In  the  ancient  burial  service  of  the  Rig  Yeda  it  is  described 
how  the  survivors  of  a dead  man  must  raise  at  his  grave  a 
wall,  separating  the  living  from  the  dead,  and  sing  these 
words:  “Now  are  the  living  sundered  from  the  dead;  (there 
lies  the  dead)  but  we  go  on  ” (to  life).  Fortunate  is  it  that 
the  living  can  thus  turn  again  to  the  varied  interests  of  life  ; 
but  fortunate  also  are  they  who,  in  thus  turning,  feel  that  not 
all  which  once  was  theirs  is  sundered  from  them,  but  that 
through  the  dividing  wall  of  death  there  still  extends,  in 
memories  linking  together  the  present  and  the  past,  an  im- 
pulse that  does  not  die  with  the  dead,  but  is  still  a vital  force 
among  the  living. 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


THE  EIG  VEDA. 

More  than  a generation  has  now  passed  since  the  work 
called  Rig  Veda,  that  is,  Verse-Wisdom,  was  first  completely 
published  in  print.  The  first  half  appeared  just  forty  years 
ago,  and  the  second  half  followed  two  years  later. 

But  although  the  Rig  Veda  has  been  in  the  hands  of  schol- 
ars for  so  long,  there  is  no  unanimity  on  their  part  as  regards 
either  the  time  and  place  of  origin,  or  the  character  of  this 
Verse- Wisdom.  There  are,  however,  already  at  hand  certain 
data  the  consideration  of  which  should  tend  to  solidify  opinion 
on  these  points.  Some  of  these  can  be  explained  without 
bringing  in  technical  details,  and  the  general  problem  may 
easily  be  stated  in  such  a way  as  to  be  comprehended  by  any 
student  accustomed  to  deal  with  the  history  of  literature. 

In  a narrow  sense  the  Rig  Veda  is  one  of  four  Vedas ; yet 
since  two  of  the  other  three  are  merely  the  Rig  Veda  itself, 
arranged  for  chaunting,  saman,  and  for  a sacrificial  liturgy, 
yajus,  while  the  fourth  is  also  a collection  of  verses,  many 
of  which  are  simply  taken  from  the  older  Rig  Veda,  we 
may  say  that  in  a wider  sense,  for  historical  purposes, 
there  is  only  one  Veda,  that  is,  a body  of  hymns  composed 
separately  in  remote  antiquity  and  afterwards  brought  to- 
gether and  arranged  in  various  groups  called  “ Collections.” 
But  in  this  wider  sense  the  Verse-Wisdom  of  ancient  India  is 
itself  a heterogeneous  combination  of  old  hymns,  charms, 
philosophical  poems,  and  popular  songs,  most  but  not  all  of 
which  are  of  religious  content. 


24 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


As  the  starting-point  of  our  critique  we  may  take  the 
admission  made  in  the  Vedic  literature  itself  that  the  va- 
rious Collections  known  to  us  are  parts  of  a more  primitive 
Veda.  Something  more  than  philosophical  and  religious  in- 
terpretation is  contained  in  this  statement.  It  holds  a bit 
of  literary  history,  and  the  view  here  advanced  is  supported 
by  a careful  study  of  the  structure  of  our  extant  texts.  For 
not  only  is  it  true  that  the  three  oldest  Collections  are  merely 
various  arrangements  of  Verse- Wisdom,  in  the  main  the 
Collection  or  Rig  Veda,  but  it  is  also  indisputable  that  this 
Rig  Veda  Collection  itself  is  a composite  consisting  largely 
of  the  same  material  disposed  in  various  ways.  The  same 
whole  verses  and  a still  larger  number  of  parts  of  verses  are 
found  repeated  in  different  hymns,  while  in  almost  every 
hymn  occur  phrases  which  are  used  elsewhere  in  other  situa- 
tions. All  this  points  to  the  fact  that  the  hymns  are  founded 
on  older  material,  the  wreck  of  which  has  been  utilized  in 
constructing  new  poetic  buildings,  just  as  many  of  the  tem- 
ples of  India  are  to  a great  extent  built  of  the  material 
of  older  demolished  temples.  The  extant  Verse-Wisdom 
Collection,  then,  far  from  being  a group  of  primitive  hymns, 
is  probably  in  part  the  later  remnant  of  older  hymns  (which 
in  course  of  time  were  changed  both  in  substance  and  in 
form),  while  in  part  it  is  merely  more  modern  imitation  of 
these  hymns. 

By  such  re-handling  of  older  material  literature  has  in  fact 
always  been  preserved  in  India.  We  need  look  only  at  the 
later  form  of  hymns  of  the  Rig  Veda  Collection  as  they 
appear  in  the  Atharva  Collection  to  see  that  in  order  to  be 
intelligible  the  poetry  of  the  ancients  had  to  be  brought 
down  to  date,  so  to  speak ; or,  again,  at  the  verses  of  the 
Upanishads  that  still  preserve  archaic  forms,  as  they  in  turn 
are  passed  along  through  the  medium  of  the  epic,  with  the 
sense  kept  but  with  the  outer  form  remodelled  to  suit  a 
later  age. 

It  is  for  this  reason  that  attempts  to  discover  dialectic  dif- 
ferences in  the  Rig  Veda  have  as  good  as  failed  completely. 


THE  RIG  VEDA. 


25 


Some  few  traces  of  a primitive  dialectic  divergence  in  the  use 
of  certain  grammatical  forms  have  been  thought  to  be  percep- 
tible, but  they  are  mostly  imaginary ; that  is,  the  divergence 
in  any  one  case  is  too  small  to  establish  a dialect  upon,  and  all 
the  supposed  traces  taken  together  fail  to  show  any  special 
dialectic  difference  between  the  different  parts  of  the  Veda. 
This  is  true  both  in  regard  to  other  dialectic  distinctions  and 
in  regard  to  a distinction  between  priestly  and  popular  lan- 
guage. All  that  has  been  shown  is  that  some  of  the  hymns 
are  nearer  than  others  to  the  norm  of  the  later  language,  that 
is,  are  themselves  later.  The  reason  why  the  Veda  Collection 
was  made  at  all  was  doubtless  the  very  fact  that  the  form  of 
antique  hymns  was  continually  changing.  As  the  Athenians 
wished  to  preserve  the  tragedians,  so  the  priests  of  India 
made  at  last  an  authorized  edition  of  their  hereditary  material, 
as  it  had  been  handed  down  in  their  different  families  by  that 
much  belauded  Hindu  memory  which  has  foolishly  been 
supposed  to  be  always  infallible,  whereas,  in  point  of  fact, 
wonderful  as  it  was  when  so  trained  as  to  absorb  all  other 
intellectual  powers,  by  nature  it  was  untrustworthy ; for  in 
citing  older  material  by  memory  the  Hindus,  as  I have  just 
shown,  are  constantly  unreliable  as  far  as  regards  the  exact 
reproduction  in  stereotyped  form  of  the  verses  they  repeat. 
And  this  must  have  been  the  case  always  till  the  Vedic  ma- 
terial began  to  be  felt  as  something  ancient  enough  to  be 
divine.  Previously  there  is  no  reason  at  all  to  suppose  that 
the  repeaters  of  old  songs  were  themselves  very  nice  in 
this  regard,  or  that  they  were  estopped  from  making  indi- 
vidual alterations  in  the  text.  On  the  contrary,  we  must 
believe  that  the  hymns  with  other  poetic  tradition  of  older 
Verse-Wisdom  were  at  first  handed  down  in  just  the  way 
in  which  the  later  hymns  and  other  poetic  literature  were 
handed  down  in  the  Upanishads  and  epic,  — that  is,  modified, 
transformed,  freely  altered.  On  this  point,  as  on  many  oth- 
ers, a study  of  what  has  actually  happened  is  far  more  likely 
than  a priori  argument  to  direct  historical  research  rightly. 
In  regard  to  the  Vedic  verses,  the  very  case  taken  to  preserve 


26 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


them  exactly  as  they  were,  the  extraordinary  machinery  in- 
vented solely  to  this  end,  such  as  dislocating  the  complete 
words  and  repeating  the  parts  separately,  saying  them  again 
by  an  overlapping  process,  and  finally  repeating  them  forwards 
and  backwards  — all  this  anxious  solicitude  shows  not  only, 
what  has  often  been  commented  upon,  that  the  priests  held 
the  text  in  veneration,  but  also,  what  is  more  important  and 
is  not  sufficiently  recognized,  that  they  were  sure  the  text 
would  continue  to  be  corrupted,  modified,  modernized,  as 
without  such  precaution  it  had  been  changed  in  the  past. 

From  what  I have  already  said  it  follows  that  hymns  of 
very  different  periods  originally,  but  reduced  pretty  much  to 
one  linguistic  level,  will  be  found  in  the  Verse- Wisdom, 
which,  at  some  time  in  its  natural  development,  was  thus 
arrested.  For  the  older  hymns,  as  they  passed  through 
generations  of  reciters,  would  have  been  steadily  modified, 
not  indeed  to  the  very  level  of  the  reciters,  but,  so  to  speak, 
to  within  easy  reaching  distance.  We  see  the  same  thing 
exactly  in  our  successive  editions  of  hymn-books.  The  quaint 
old  hymn  loses  its  oldest,  perhaps  incomprehensible  or  re- 
pugnant features,  but  it  is  not  reduced  quite  to  the  same  form 
as  those  written  in  this  generation.  Sufficient  antique  flavor 
is  preserved  to  conserve  its  sanctity,  as  it  were,  but  at  the  same 
time  sufficient  change  is  introduced  to  make  it  appeal  to  the 
intelligence  and  sympathy  of  the  modern  worshipper.  How 
far  this  has  gone  in  the  actual  Veda  Collections  has  been 
shown  by  Professor  Aufrecht.  The  evidence  is  valuable ; 
but  before  there  was  any  such  Collection  the  same  process 
must  have  resulted  in  the  linguistic  and  syntactical  modifica- 
tion of  the  older  l^mns  of  the  Verse-Collection. 

The  present  Rig  Veda  Collection  consists  of  ten  groups, 
which  may  be  roughly  divided  into  three  main  divisions,  in- 
dicating two  earlier  groups  and  a later  (completed)  Collec- 
tion ; the  first  comprising  the  second  to  the  seventh  book 
inclusively,  the  second  containing  additions  set  round  the  older 
group,  and  consisting  of  the  first  to  the  eighth  books  (inclu- 
sive), and  the  third,  or  final  redaction,  consisting  of  the  former 


THE  RIG  VEDA. 


27 


groups  with  the  addition  of  the  ninth  and  tenth  books.  These 
two  last  added  books  differ  more  in  character  than  in  age 
from  the  preceding,  though  generally  speaking  the  latest 
hymns  (linguistically  judged)  are  found  in  these  two  books. 
But  as  the  books  differ  in  character  they  contain  also  a great 
deal  of  old  material,  which  had  not  previously  been  incor- 
porated because  it  did  not  correspond  to  the  character  of  the 
earlier  books.  While,  therefore,  the  books  ii-vii  are  the  oldest 
group  and  books  ix-x  the  latest  books,  i and  viii  being  inter- 
mediate, some  parts  of  the  latest  group  are  nevertheless  proba- 
bly earlier  than  the  earlier  groups  as  such ; and  likewise  the 
eighth  book  does  not  quite  suit  the  character  of  the  first  group, 
and  may  for  this  reason  have  been  preserved  apart  before  it 
was  finally  tagged  on  to  it.  But  since  its  vocabulary  is  dis- 
tinctly later  than  that  of  books  ii-vii,  as  its  rhythmic  arrange- 
ment is  more  refined,  it  is  most  likely  that  it  really  is  a later 
product ; nor  is  there  anything  in  its  content  similar  to  the 
antique  content  of  certain  of  the  hymns  of  the  tenth  book  to 
counterbalance  the  lateness  of  vocabulary,  style,  and  arrange- 
ments. The  most  important  book  chronologically  is  the  ninth, 
which  has  a character  all  its  own  in  that  it  comprises  nearly 
all  the  Vedic  hymns  to  Soma;  that  is,  it  is  exclusively  oc- 
cupied with  a cult  that  is  pre- Vedic,  and  yet  as  a part  of  the 
Collection  it  is  clearly  a late  addition  to  the  first  two  groups ; 
and  the  individual  hymns,  some  of  which  must  in  their  orig- 
inal form  have  been  among  the  oldest  hymns  of  the  whole 
Veda,  are  in  their  group-form  all  reduced  to  the  same  lin- 
guistic level,  which  in  general  is  that  of  the  end  rather  than 
the  beginning  of  the  Collection. 

The  time  when  the  Verse-Wisdom  Collection  was  made 
cannot  be  much  earlier  than  the  sixth  century  B.  c.,  and  may  be 
considerably  later.  That  the  individual  hymns  of  which  the 
Collection  consists  are  in  their  original  form  older  than  this 
is  unquestionable,  and  scholars  have  referred  the  date  of  the 
hymns,  in  distinction  from  the  date  of  the  making  of  the  Col- 
lection, to  the  tenth,  twelfth,  fifteenth,  and  even  thirty-fifth 
century  before  our  era.  The  last  date  is  the  result  of  certain 


28 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


astronomical  factors  supposed  to  be  valid  as  determinants  and 
applied  with  much  ingenuity  to  the  solution  of  the  problem. 
But  the  premises  on  which  rests  this  theory  of  the  date  are 
scarcely  admissible  and  the  theory  neither  has  had  nor  is 
likely  to  have  the  support  of  other  critics,  though  the  in- 
ventor of  the  theory  is  himself  an  extremely  able  and  sober- 
minded  critic.  But  it  is  a well-known  fact  that  when  one 
makes  what  appears  to  be  an  important  discovery  one’s  critical 
faculty  is  almost  sure  to  be  unduly  influenced  by  one’s  en- 
thusiasm for  the  idea,  — very  fortunately,  for  otherwise  there 
would  be  no  advance  in  science,  since  caution  would  so  check 
as  to  palsy  invention. 

As  to  the  other  dates  proposed,  they  have  no  other  basis, 
as  may  be  seen  by  their  fluctuating  nature,  than  the  vague 
belief  that  a certain,  or  uncertain,  number  of  centuries  must 
elapse  before  a thousand  hymns  of  varying  chronological  value 
can  be  written  and  explained ; for  other  data  of  change  re- 
quire no  very  long  period.  But  the  chronological  values  are 
based  not  so  much  on  the  number  of  hymns  and  elucidations 
(for  no  one  knows  how  many  authors  were  concerned  in  the 
making  of  the  Veda,  and  the  number  of  elucidations,  Brah- 
manas,  does  not  represent  time  so  much  as  schools)  as  on 
sundry  allusions  of  the  poets  themselves  to  older  poets  and 
hymns,  and  on  an  assumed  difference  in  age  between  some  of 
the  hymns,  which  have  a more  antique  vocabulary  and  gram- 
mar, and  those  that  come  nearer  to  the  later  standard. 

It  is  obvious,  then,  that  the  first  factor  may  be  admitted  and 
yet  largely  discounted  by  the  admission  of  only  a few  genera- 
tions of  poets,  not  more  than  two  centuries.  Nor  are  the 
linguistic  differences  so  great  as  to  make  it  necessary  to  as- 
sume anything  like  half  a dozen  centuries  for  their  formation. 
Again,  the  chief  reason  for  believing  that  circa  600  b.  c.  is  the 
date  of  the  Collection  as  such,  is  that  the  older  explanatory 
Brahmanas  do  not  show  any  acquaintance  with  such  a Collec- 
tion, whereas  the  later  do,  as  do  the  early  philosophical  Upani- 
shads.  Now  the  linguistic  changes  arising  between  the  time 
of  the  Brahmanas  in  their  oldest  form  and  the  Upanishads 


THE  RIG  VEDA. 


29 


which  belong  to  them  are  not  much  less  than  those  between 
the  Brahmanas  and  the  hymns,  and  there  is  no  reason  what- 
ever for  supposing  that  all  the  changes  between  the  oldest 
hymns  and  the  Upanishads  of  the  first  and  second  period  (the 
old  prose  and  verse  Upanishads)  could  not  have  been  effected 
in  the  course  of  two  centuries.  Two  hundred  years  are  a long 
time  in  the  course  of  a language  unrestricted  by  written  litera- 
ture, and  even  when  handicapped  by  the  drag  of  writing, 
which  naturally  impedes  change,  it  needs  but  this  to  turn  the 
language  of  Cato  into  that  of  Quintilian ; nor  does  the  lan- 
guage of  the  Upanishads  compared  with  that  of  the  Rig  Veda 
show  greater  changes  than  those  that  mark  the  language  of 
Milton  when  compared  with  that  of  Chaucer,  two  centuries 
earlier.  Further,  as  I have  said,  the  development  of  the 
literature  is  not  so  great  as  to  oppose  this  narrower  limit,  nor 
are  the  ethical,  philosophical,  religious,  and  sociological  factors 
of  the  sixth  century  b.  c.  such  as  to  preclude  the  prob- 
ability that  they  represent  the  evolution  of  six  generations, 
without  revolution  of  religion  or  state,  after  the  earliest 
hymns  were  written. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  is  a very  important  factor  which 
tends  to  restrain  the  assumption  that  many  preliminary  cen- 
turies are  essential  in  this  reckoning.  As  long  as  Zoroaster 
was  indefinitely  remote  all  similarities  between  Veda  and 
Avesta  could  be  explained  on  the  basis  of  an  indefinitely 
remote  relationship.  But  now  that  Zoroaster’s  date  is  fairly 
well  determined,  we  must  face  anew  the  fact,  which  has  never 
been  denied,  that  the  language  of  the  Avesta  and  that  of  the 
Rig  Veda  are  too  closely  related  to  admit  of  the  possibility 
of  any  great  chasm  in  time  between  the  two  works.  But  the 
Avesta,  as  Professor  Jackson  has  shown,  cannot  be  referred 
to  a period  much  earlier  than  600  B.  c.,  and  as  we  are  prob- 
ably safe  in  saying  that  in  part  of  the  seventh  century  even 
the  Gathas  of  Iran  were  still  unsung,  so  we  may  well  believe 
that  the  earliest  hymns  of  the  Rig  Veda  were  not  much  earlier. 
A couple  of  centuries  would  meet  all  Indie  requirements  and 
be  as  much  as  can  be  granted  in  view  of  the  religious  and 


30 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


linguistic  affinity  with  Iran.  One  thousand  B.  c.  is,  then,  not 
the  lowest,  but  the  highest  limit  that  we  can  reasonably  set  to 
the  Rig  Veda,  and  800  b.  c.  is  probably  nearer  the  mark,  as 
far  as  the  bulk  of  the  Rig  Veda  is  concerned. 

The  home  of  the  Rig  Veda  has  been  located  in  almost  as 
many  places  as  Paradise.  Now  it  is  by  the  Caspian  Sea,  now  it 
is  in  Kandahar,  but  the  Punjab  is  the  favorite  place,  and  quite 
naturally ; for  the  poets  are  familiar  with  the  Punjab,  sing  of 
it,  talk  of  crossing  its  rivers,  and  in  many  ways  show  that 
they  occupied,  in  part  at  least,  the  country  stretching  from 
Peshawar  to  Delhi. 

Only,  in  tills  ready  solution  there  is  one  fact  which  arrests 
the  attention  of  those  who  know  India  from  seeing  it,  as  well 
as  from  its  ancient  literature.  When  one  traverses  the 
district  just  mentioned,  one  crosses  in  going  from  east  to 
west,  from  Delhi  to  Peshawar,  from  the  extreme  limit  of  the 
monsoon’s  influence,  over  a bare  sandy  plain,  remote  alike 
from  the  effect  of  seasonal  rains  and  from  the  view  of  any 
mountains.  And  then  one  remembers,  at  first  with  wonder, 
that  the  climatic  conditions  of  the  Rig  Veda  are  quite  differ- 
ent from  those  of  the  Punjab ; that  the  poets  are  continually 
extolling  the  furious  battles  of  the  storm-gods  and  live  ever 
in  sight  of  the  great  mountains.  As  I have  written  on  this 
subject  elsewhere,1  I will  here  merely  sum  up  what  I have 
said  previously.  Apart  from  a few  hymns  where  the  Indus 
and  streams  west  of  the  Indus  are  mentioned,  the  life  of  the 
Vedic  Aryan,  as  depicted  in  his  earliest  literature,  reflects  not 
so  much  a wandering  life  in  a desert  as  a life  stable  and 
fixed,  above  all,  a life  in  sight  of  mountains  and  within  the 
influence  of  the  monsoon  storms.  Further,  the  poets  sing 
of  having  crossed  the  very  last  river  of  the  Punjab,  and 
between  this  and  any  possible  abiding-place  there  is  only  a 
plain  that  is  practically  a desert.  But  when  one  retraces  his 
steps  and,  turning  east  to  the  old  “ limit  of  India,”  Sirhind, 
passes  still  east  of  this,  one  arrives  for  the  first  time  at  a 


1 Journal  of  the  American  Oriental  Society,  vol.  xix,  p.  21  ff. 


THE  RIG  VEDA. 


31 


district  where  monsoon  storms  and  mountain  scenery  are 
found,  that  district,  namely,  which  lies  about  Umballa  or 
Ambala,  south  toward  Thanesar,  Kurukshetra,  between  the 
Sarasouti  and  Ghuggar  rivers.  In  this  district  noble  moun- 
tains are  visible,  which  recede  from  sight  as  one  approaches 
Thanesar.  Here  the  monsoon  still  breaks  in  violence,  while 
the  Punjab  has  only  showers  and  dust-storms.  Here  are 
softly  sloping  hills  and  verdant  pasturage,  such  as  the  Vedic 
poets  besing.  It  is  here  that,  in  accordance  with  these  facts, 
the  Rig  Veda  as  a whole,  as  I think,  was  composed.  In 
every  particular  this  locality  fulfils  the  physical  conditions 
under  which  the  composition  of  the  hymns  was  possible, 
while  it  explains  the  lyrics  of  the  priests  in  regard  to  the 
crossing  of  the  Punjab  as  having  been  composed  after  the 
event;  whereas  any  other  assumption  carries  us  west  of 
the  Punjab,  for  only  here  do  we  come  again  upon  a mountain- 
ous and  storm-beaten  country. 

One  point  more.  In  the  usual  sunset  in  India  there  is  a 
sudden  red  glow  followed  by  a dull  copper-yellow,  which 
soon  fades.  At  sunrise  there  is  the  same  quick  succession  of 
colors  reversed.  Only  in  the  Punjab  can  one  see  a really 
beautiful  sunset,  or  a sunrise  such  as  is  marked  by  bright 
yellow,  gradually  deepening  into  rose,  and  this  continuing 
with  a long,  slow  flush  of  crimson. 

Now  why  is  it  that  among  the  oldest  hymns  of  the  Rig 
Veda  we  find  such  beautiful  Hymns  to  Dawn,  and  why  is  it 
that  this  erst  so  well-beloved  Damosel  of  Heaven,  who  is 
especially  invoked  to  give  “ good  paths  to  the  sojourner,”  is 
entirely  neglected  in  the  later  Vedic  and  liturgical  literature? 
First,  because  Dawn  was  dawn  indeed  only  in  the  watery 
northwest,  with  its  cloud-making  atmosphere.  When  the 
sim  leaps  at  a bound  out  of  cloudless  night  and  makes  daz- 
zling day,  as  it  does  generally  in  India,  there  is  no  dawn  to 
speak  of,  much  less  to  sing  of.  And  second,  because  she 
who  is  especially  invoked  to  give  good  paths  is  the  right 
leader  of  those  whose  journey  begins  with  the  first  light  in 
the  east.  Then  Dawn  is  invoked  by  those  who  still  live  to 


82 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


the  west  of  the  great  rivers,  otherwise  she  would  not  be 
addressed  as  one  who  “ in  shining  light  before  the  wind  arises 
comes  gleaming  o’er  the  waters,  making  good  paths.” 
Again,  those  that  tend  their  flocks  upon  the  great  plains  are 
they  who  are  most  apt  to  keep  in  religious  reverence  the 
God  of  the  Sky.  He  too,  Varuna,  was  a great  god  to  the 
early  poets,  but  the  bulk  of  the  Vedic  Hymns  pass  him  over 
in  favour  of  the  Rain-and-Storm-god,  Indra,  a new  creation, 
for  the  Punjab  has  no  place  for  him.  Varuna  and  Dawn 
belong  to  the  Punjab ; Indra  to  the  East.  Varuna  and  Dawn 
are  more  antique  than  Indra,  as  the  Punjab  is  the  older 
habitat  of  the  Aryans.  But  the  bulk  of  the  Rig  Veda  belongs 
to  Indra  and  his  cult. 

The  Vedic  poets  always  represent  the  rivers  as  rising  sud- 
denly in  consequence  of  Indra’s  slaying  the  demon  of  drought. 
This  applies  to  the  rivers  above  Umballa,  but  not  to  the 
Indus  nor  to  the  Punjab  rivers,  which  rise  long  before  the 
monsoon  breaks  (in  June),  in  consequence  of  the  melting  of 
Himalayan  snow.  Consequently,  when  in  one  of  the  Vedic 
lyrics  we  find  Indra  addressed  as  the  god  that  makes  the 
Sutlej  rise,  we  must  remember  that  this  lyric  was  composed 
to  the  east  of  the  Punjab  and  long  after  the  event.  The  poet 
credits  Indra  with  having  the  same  power  over  the  Sutlej  as 
over  the  rivers  he  himself  knows. 

The  implication  made  in  the  distinction  here  suggested 
between  the  mass  of  Vedic  hymns  and  the  few  that  belonged 
to  an  older  age  and  more  western  habitat  will  not  be 
acceptable  to  those  who  hold  that  all  the  Vedic  hymns  were 
composed  in  the  same  ritualistic  environment.  But  such  a 
view  is  as  yet  merely  a theory,  and  though  it  is  a popular 
fad  of  modern  criticism, — for  criticism  has  its  passing  fashions, 
— it  should  not  be  accepted  on  that  ground,  but  be  held  sub- 
ject to  the  facts  we  can  control.  But  it  fails  to  conform  to 
the  data.  For  not  only  does  it  take  no  note  of  a difference 
in  the  religious  attitude  of  the  various  poets, — evidence  of 
any  such  difference  is  with  magnificent  scorn  said  to  be  due 
to  “ merely  subjective  ” criticism, — but  it  assumes,  what  is 


THE  RIG  VEDA. 


33 


not  true,  that  all  the  hymns  show  traces  of  having  been  “ made 
for  baksheesh”  and  mechanically  ground  out  to  subserve  the 
purpose  of  a ritual  essentially  the  same  as  that  of  the  later 
Brahmanas.  Historically  this  claim  is  about  on  a par  with  a 
theory  which  should  start  with  the  assumption  that  because 
the  Psalms  are  rubricated  they  were  all  written  for  the  use 
of  the  Church.  It  is  even  more  daring,  for  all  the  Psalms 
are  rubricated,  but  not  all  the  hymns  find  a place  in  the 
later  ritual.  The  absurdity  is  increased  when  it  is  neces- 
sary to  dispose  of  hymns  that  were  clearly  never  meant  for 
any  service  at  all,  or  such  as  have  been  violently  twisted  out 
of  their  original  meaning  to  subserve  the  purpose  of  the  very 
ritual  which  this  facile  theory  declares  was  in  existence  when 
the  hymns  were  composed,  as  when  the  later  ritual  distorts 
a burial  hymn  into  a service  for  a burning-ghat.  If  the 
theory  means  only  that  when  the  Yedic  hymns  were  com- 
posed there  was  a Soma-sacrifice,  sacrificial  grass,  and  Kavis, 
or  seers,  all  this  is  not  a new  idea  but  a platitude,  for  we 
know  that  such  was  the  case  when  the  Indo-Iranians  were 
one  people,  before  the  Iranians  drew  back  from  the  Punjab 
(into  which  as  far  as  the  Beas  they  probably  at  one  time  had 
penetrated).  But  if  it  claims,  as  it  appears  to  do,  that  the 
service  of  the  later  Brahmanas  was  identical  with  that  of  the 
earliest  hymns,  and  that  all  these  hymns  were  composed 
simply  for  that  service,  then  in  view  of  the  facts  just  men- 
tioned it  may  be  dismissed  as  sufficiently  unhistorical  to 
break  with  its  own  weight.  No  theory  which  holds  that 
every  one  of  the  thousand  disconnected  hymns  of  the  Rig 
Veda  is  as  late  or  as  ritualistic  as  every  other  deserves 
serious  consideration.  Such  a view  represents  merely  an 
extreme,  and  therefore  incorrect,  reaction  against  the  pre- 
vious exaggerated  notion  of  antiquity  and  simplicity,  traits 
ascribed  to  the  Rig  Veda  as  a whole  by  earlier  scholars. 
But  the  Rig  Veda  is  neither  very  naif  and  primitive  nor 
wholly  late  and  ritualistic.  Differences  of  time  may  be 
almost  obliterated  linguistically,  for  the  reasons  which  I 
have  already  given.  But  differences  in  thought  and  be- 

3 


•Si 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


lief  are  still  so  marked  as  to  demand  an  explanation ; nor 
does  the  only  other  solution  suggested,  that  a monotheistic 
trait  in  Varuna  was  a loan  from  Semitic  sources,  seem  so 
probable  as  that  the  Rig  Yeda  itself  contains  different 
strata.  The  chief  reason  given  for  believing  that  the  later 
ritual  underlies  all  the  Vedic  hymns  is  that  the  ritual  fre- 
quently explains  the  hymns.  But  it  is  an  unwarranted  induc- 
tion that  therefore  all  the  hymns,  whether  reflecting  the  later 
ritual  or  not,  and  even  those  which  stand  opposed  to  that 
ritual,  must  have  arisen  in  the  same  ritualistic  environment. 
If  in  separating  the  strata  and  differentiating  the  elements  it 
is  impossible  to  be  sure  of  judgment  in  detail,  it  is  better  to 
make  mistakes  in  detail  than  to  err  in  one’s  general  estimate. 

An  objection  that  might  be  urged  against  what  I have  said 
about  the  Punjab  is  that,  whatever  the  Punjab  is  now,  it  may 
have  been  quite  different  in  ancient  times.  Its  rivers  may 
perhaps  have  run  in  different  courses  and  there  may  have 
been  more  of  them,  for  it  is  difficult  to-day  to  see  why  Seven 
Rivers  was  the  original  name  of  the  Punjab  (that  is,  Five 
Rivers).  But  this  name,  Seven  Rivers,  may  have  been,  as  it 
was  an  older  name,  the  designation  of  an  older  group  of 
rivers;  while  the  Vedic  poets  often  allude  to  the  “desert,” 
so  that  the  country  was  probably  much  as  it  is  now,  especially 
as  it  is  improbable  that  the  monsoon  has  backed  away  from 
its  former  scene  of  operations. 

In  short,  as  far  as  we  can  judge  on  the  evidence,  there 
seems  no  reason  to  doubt  that  the  Verse-Wisdom  of  the 
Hindus  dates  in  general  from  about  the  eighth  or  ninth  cen- 
tury, and,  while  a few  hymns  come  from  further  west,  was 
composed  near  Umballa,  where  finally,  about  600  B.  c.,  the 
different  hymns  were  made  into  what  is  now  known  as  the 
Verse-Wisdom  Collection,  in  which,  however,  we  may  detect 
three  redactions,  made  at  different  times.  This  Collection  as 
a whole  contains  some  old  and  some  more  recent  material, 
the  former  more  or  less  levelled  to  the  style  and  language  of 
the  latter,  as  it  floated  down  to  the  later  period,  much  tampered 
with  before  being  caught  up  in  a collection,  and  still  tarn- 


THE  RIG  VEDA. 


35 


pered  with  till  after  the  final  redaction,  when  greater  care 
began  to  be  exercised  in  regard  to  preserving  all  the  hymns  ; 
for  there  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  the  first  collection  was 
due  to  a desire  to  preserve  the  form,  but  only  the  matter. 
The  idea  of  a sacrosanct  form  is  much  later.  The  title 
“ Hymns  ” may  serve,  as  it  has  served  in  the  past,  to  designate 
the  Collection  of  the  Rig  Veda;  but  that  work  contains  not 
only  the  mechanical  hymns  of  a later  day,  but  the  spontaneous 
songs  of  an  earlier  period,  as  it  contains  worldly  poetry,  heroic 
lyrics,  epic  beginnings,  and  philosophical  studies. 


THE  EARLY  LYRIC  POETRY  OF  INDIA. 


For  some  mysterious  reason  our  handbooks  of  Sanskrit  Liter- 
ature, after  describing  the  Vedic  and  epic  periods,  come  at 
last  to  a separate  division  called  Lyric  Poetry,  to  which  is 
given  as  an  initial  date  circa  500  A.  D.  This  date  is  wrong  by 
more  than  a thousand  years.  It  ignores  all  the  background 
of  the  classical  lyric.  Of  this  background  or  foundation  or 
forerunner,  as  you  will,  I purpose  now  to  speak. 

The  lyric  poetry  of  India  is  of  four  kinds  and  belongs  in 
general  to  four  epochs,  although  with  one  exception  each 
precedent  variety  glides  into  the  next  following  without 
sharp  interval.  To  follow  the  onward  course,  the  slow  devel- 
opment, the  persistent  reversions,  to  note  the  final  loss  of  the 
early  strain  and  the  inception  and  growth  of  a new  sort  of 
lyric,  unknown  to  the  earliest  period,  is  a fascinating  employ- 
ment, though  in  some  regards  a sad  one.  For  as  nothing 
reflects  the  singer’s  heart  like  lyric  song,  it  is  melancholy  to 
discover  that  the  good  growth  which  died  is  the  heroic,  while 
the  self-ingrafted  -weed  that  finally  choked  out  the  heroic 
strain  is  the  sentimental,  erotic,  neurotic,  religious-erotic 
lyric,  poisonous  as  it  is  fair.  But  before  we  examine  particu- 
larly the  earlier  forms,  let  me  sketch  briefly  the  course  thus 
indicated  that  you  may  have  at  hand  an  outline  of  the  whole. 

There  is  first  to  be  noticed  the  lyric  of  circa  800  B.  c.,  partly 
altogether  religious,  partly  altogether  worldly,  while  heroic 
themes  in  some  examples  are  united  with  a religious  element. 
This  may  be  called  for  convenience  the  inspired  lyric,  to 
distinguish  it  from  the  religious  lyric  of  a later  day,  for  only 
the  earliest  poetry  is  regarded  as  divinely  inspired.  After 
this  there  is  an  intervening  strain  of  devotional  lyric,  which 
appears  here  and  there  in  the  early  philosophical  essays  of 


THE  EARLY  LYRIC  POETRY  OF  INDIA. 


37 


circa  400  B.  c.,  but  it  is  so  sporadic  in  its  outgrowth  and  so 
scrappy  in  its  nature  that  it  may  be  grouped  with  the  same 
sort  of  poetry  found  a little  later  in  the  epic,  only  that  here 
there  is  added  the  new  strain,  the  sentimental  element,  but 
the  two  together  may  be  called  the  devotional  and  sentimen- 
tal or  epic  lyric.  Third  in  time  and  kind  is  the  simple  love- 
lyric,  which  begins  in  the  drama  and  appears  as  an  independent 
genre  in  the  later  classical  lyric.  There  is  also,  besides  the 
descriptive  lyric  which  runs  through  the  inspired  and  epic 
periods,  some  descriptive  lyric  of  fragmentary  inscriptional 
character ; but  this  last  may  be  passed  over  as  a prelude  to 
the  higher  artistic  perfection  of  the  poets  of  400-800  A.  D. 
Last  of  all  there  is  the  complex  love  lyric  of  the  later  poets. 
This  is  a fusion  of  erotic  and  religious  elements,  and  in  dis- 
tinction from  the  simple  love  lyric  may  be  called  the  mystic 
lyric.  In  this  last  form  it  is  sometimes  difficult  to  say  whether 
the  poet  is  more  influenced  by  amorous  passion  or  devout 
piety,  or  whether  both  are  as  strangely  blended  in  his  spirit 
as  they  are  in  his  words. 

The  earliest  form  of  lyrical  expression  is  in  the  main  re- 
ligious, and  of  this  religious  mass,  — that  is,  the  Vedic  Hymns, 
— the  general  content  may  be  described  as  joyful  laudation 
mingled  with  a canny  sense  of  the  usefulness  of  gods  when 
properly  praised,  as  in  these  verses,  which  I cite  from  a previ- 
ous translation : 1 

’T  is  Indra  all  our  songs  extol, 

Him  huge  as  ocean  in  extent ; 

Of  warriors  chiefest  warrior  he, 

Lord,  truest  lord  for  booty’s  gain. 

In  friendship,  Indra,  firm  as  thine 
We  nothing  fear,  O lord  of  strength; 

To  thee  we  our  laudations  sing, 

The  conqueror  unconquered. 

And  so  on,  in  laud  of  “ Indra,  the  doer  of  every  deed,  the 
lightning-holder,  far  renowned,”  whose  gracious  acts  are  men- 


1 The  Religions  of  India,  p.  20. 


38 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


tioned  as  being  without  number,  though  the  poet  alludes 
especially  to  his  greatest  deed,  slaying  the  demon  of  drought 
and  helping  his  own  worshippers  in  their  raids  for  cattle ; 
until  the  song,  which  in  no  wise  reflects  the  sacerdotalism 
that  pervades  so  many  of  the  Vedic  hymns,  concludes  with 
the  stanza : 

Indra,  who  lords  it  by  his  strength, 

Our  praises  now  have  loud  proclaimed ; 

His  generous  gifts  a thousand  are, 

Aye,  even  more  than  this  are  they. 

Indra  is  the  war-god,  and  most  of  the  hymns  addressed  to 
him  portray  him  as  leader  in  battle  as  well  as  slayer  of  the 
demon-dragon,  who  holds  pent  the  longed-for  rain.  The 
spirit  of  these  hymns  is  exultant,  often  jovial,  and  not  seldom 
almost  brutal;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  grace  and  dignity 
are  respectively  the  characteristics  of  the  religious  lyrics  ad- 
dressed to  Dawn  and  Heaven.  Dawn,  the  path-finder,  the 
gentle  maiden-goddess  of  the  early  Veda,  has  but  few  hymns, 
but  these  are  such  as  to  make  one  wish  for  more : 

As  comes  a bride,  hath  Dawn  approached  us,  gleaming; 

All  things  that  live  she  rouses  now  to  action. 

A fire  is  born  that  shines  for  human  beings ; 

Light  hath  she  made  and  driven  away  the  darkness. 

0 near  and  dear,  keep  them  afar  who  hate  us, 

And  make  secure  our  cows’  wide  pasture-places. 

Keep  harm  away,  but  what  is  good,  that  bring  us, 

And  send  the  singer  wealth,  O generous  maiden. 

Varuna,  the  Heaven,  whose  spying  eyes  are  the  orbs  above, 
who  sits  upon  his  golden  throne  and  sees  even  the  thoughts 
of  men,  is  the  most  majestic  and  loftiest  conception  of  the 
Vedic  poets : 

Bearing  a garment  all  of  gold, 

In  jewels  clothed,  is  Varuna, 

And  round  about  him  sit  his  spies ; 


THE  EARLY  LYRIC  POETRY  OF  INDIA. 


39 


Him  whom  th’  injurious  injure  not, 

Nor  they  who  men  deceive,  deceive, 

Nor  foes  attack,  a real  god. 

Far  go  my  thoughts  to  him,  as  go 
The  roaming  cows  that  meadows  seek ; 

I search  for  him,  the  wide-eyed  god, 

To  whom,  beloved  by  him  of  old, 

I bear  this  honey-sacrifice. 

Then  let  us  talk  again,  we  two  ! 

0 would  that  I might  see  my  god, 

See  his  great  chariot  sweep  the  earth, 

And  know  that  he  accepts  my  song ! 

Hear  thou  my  cry,  O Yaruna, 

Be  merciful  to  me  to-day ; 

1 need  thy  help.  I turn  to  thee, 

For  if  thou  art  both  wise  and  king 
Of  everything  in  earth  and  heaven, 

Then  must  thou  hear,  and  grant,  my  prayer. 

These  verses  are  arranged  in  stanzas  of  three  verses  each. 
Their  metre  is  but  roughly  approximated  by  the  iambic  Eng- 
lish version,  which  is  true  to  the  original  only  in  the  number 
of  syllables  given  to  each  verse,  though  the  general  cadence 
of  the  model  also  is  iambic.  But  the  latter  has  the  pyrrhic 
and  trochee  as  well  as  the  spondee  and  iambus,  so  that  the 
combination  may  be  a choriambus,  — ^ ^ _ w 

w — — ww  — ^ — » — — — — w — , to  give  the 

cadence  of  one  stanza  of  the  above  as  an  illustration : Come 
an’  united  once  again  | To  thee  bringing  a honey-feast  | Let 
us  talk  as  of  old,  the  two. 

In  the  same  metre,  and  also  arranged  in  groups  of  three 
verses  each,  a combination  which  by  the  way  afterwards  fell 
into  desuetude,  another  poet  sings  to  Pushan,  a divinity  who 
also  fell  into  desuetude  as  time  went  on.  Like  Dawn,  Pushan 
is  the  path-finder,  who  is  invoked  to  conduct  the  Aryans  as 
they  push  on  in  their  journeys ; a function  that  was  not  so 
useful  after  they  became  settled  along  the  Jumna  and  Ganges, 


40 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


but  was  indispensable  while  they  wandered  through  the 
desert : 

Go,  Pushan;  on  the  road  with  us, 

Take  every  danger  from  the  way, 

And  lead  us  forward,  shining  god. 

And,  Pushan,  if  a wicked  wolf 
Or  evil  doer  threatens  us, 

Him  truly  smite  from  out  our  path. 

Whoever  lurks  upon  our  path, 

The  robber,  or  the  doer  of  ill, 

Drive  him  afar  from  out  our  way. 

Past  all  pursuers  lead  us  well, 

Make  easy  all  our  pathways  thou, 

0 Pushan,  give  us  wisdom’s  strength. 

Such  poems  as  these,  set  in  verses  the  articulation  of  which, 
it  must  be  confessed,  bears  in  many  cases  a painful  resem- 
blance to  that  of  Midas’  epitaph,  though  for  the  more  part 
they  are  merely  lauds  of  gods,  play  between  the  objective  and 
subjective.  Thus  they  often  reflect  the  singer’s  animosities, 
his  hate  not  only  of  wrong,  but  of  special  wrong-doers ; his 
desire  for  converse  with  the  gods,  his  sorrow  for  sins  com- 
mitted by  himself.  Other  Vedic  poems  have  a lyric-dramatic 
setting  and  give  lamentations,  or  again,  they  portray  erotic 
feeling  in  situations  more  or  less  alien  to  modern  taste.  One 
unique  hymn  addressed  to  Soma  is  lyrical  in  so  far  as  it  ex- 
presses the  singer’s  longing  for  a happy  life  hereafter : 

Where  light  that  never  fades  is  seen, 

To  the  world,  where  heavenly  radiance  shines, 
Thither,  0 Soma,  bear  me  hence. 

Th’  immortal  world,  that  never  ends, 

Where  Yama  is  the  king,  within 
The  innermost  part  of  yonder  sky, 

Where  everlasting  waters  flow, 

Make  me  to  be  immortal  there. 

Where  as  one  wishes  one  may  go, 


THE  EARLY  LYRIC  POETRY  OF  INDIA. 


41 


Iu  the  third  vault  of  the  threefold  sky, 

Amid  the  luminous  worlds  of  light, 

Make  me  to  be  immortal  there. 

Where  every  wish  is  gratified, 

The  highest  place  the  sun  attains, 

Where  longings  all  are  satisfied, 

Make  me  to  be  immortal  there. 

The  place  of  joy  and  mad  delight, 

And  all  intoxicating  bliss, 

Where  all  desire’s  desires  are  stilled, 

Make  me  to  be  immortal  there. 

Of  quite  worldly  content,  on  the  other  hand,  is  the  follow- 
ing poem,  which  may  be  reckoned  as  a personal  lyric,  since 
the  poet,  in  uncovering  the  source  of  all  human  activity  and 
finding  it  in  greed  alone,  exhibits,  or  pretends  to,  his  own 
inner  feelings,  as  well  as  those  of  other  men,  even  of  the 
priest,  who,  he  implies,  performs  his  sacrifices  merely  to  get 
the  drink  of  liquor  which  goes  with  them ; just  as  the  car- 
penter or  wagon-maker  seeks  a smashed  vehicle  to  mend, 
and  the  smith  prepares  to  work,  not  for  love  of  it,  but  for 
the  money  he  will  earn.  All  work,  even  that  of  the  poet,  is 
done  for  pay,  and  “ we  are  all,  as  it  were,  pecuniarily  in- 
clined,” anu  ga  iva  tasthima.  It  is  a late  production,  belong- 
ing, like  the  last,  to  the  close  of  the  Yedic  collection,  but  the 
bard  must  have  had  a powerful  mind,  for  his  explanation  of 
the  reason  why  the  Yedic  poets  composed  songs  at  all  is 
precisely  that  of  a certain  school  of  Yedic  criticism  of  our 
day.  Perhaps,  however,  this  late  mocker,  who  represents 
the  end  of  Vedic  poetry,  was  incapable  of  understanding 
the  spirit  of  the  older  poets.  But  at  any  rate  his  criticism, 
if  not  very  deep,  makes  an  interesting  bit  of  satire: 

Aye,  various  plans  (of  work)  are  ours, 

And  different  are  the  ways  of  men  ; 

The  carpenter  desires  a smash  ; 

The  doctor,  wounds ; the  priest,  a drink. 

With  brush-wood  dry  (to  build  a fire), 

And  feather-fan  (to  make  it  hot), 


42 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


And  glowing  stones  (as  anvil  used), 

The  smith  a man  with  money  wants. 

I poet  am,  my  dad ’s  a quack, 

The  mater  grinds  the  flour  — and  yet, 

Whate’er  our  work,1  we  all  seek  wealth ; 

For  after  money  run  we  all. 

In  any  lyrical  production,  the  rhythm  is  so  essential  an 
element  that  I will  not  apologize  for  pausing  here  again  to 
explain  the  structure  of  the  Indo-Iranian  eight-syllable  verse 
as  it  is  found  in  this  so-called  anushtubh  stanza,  which  at  a 
later  date  became  stereotyped  as  the  gloka  verse.  The 
pankti  form  just  employed  has  an  additional  verse,  but 
otherwise  it  does  not  differ  from  the  anushtubh,  which  is  the 
prevailing  stanza  of  the  octosyllabic  verse.  Like  the  gaya- 
tri,  or  three-verse  stanza,  it  admits  light  or  heavy  syllables  in 
almost  any  part  of  the  verse,  and  though  there  is  a slight 
difference  in  the  frequency  of  iambic  cadence  the  two  forms 
are  not  essentially  different.  I have  spoken  above  of  pyrrhic 
and  trochee,  but  in  fact  the  verse  is  not  divided  into  feet 
of  this  sort,  and  the  classical  nomenclature  is  merely  con- 
venient in  describing  it  mechanically,  syllable  by  syllable, 
whereas  for  the  equivalent  of  our  notion  of  “ foot  ” the  verse 
of  eight  syllables  must  be  taken  as  a whole.  This  frame  is 
very  difficult  to  render  into  English,  but  I shall  try  to  give 
one  exact  equivalent  of  the  anushtubh,  reproducing  for  that 
purpose  without  regard  to  anything  else  the  precise  quanti- 
ties found  in  this  Yedic  measure,  which  it  is  evident  no  one 
name  will  describe  and  no  one  English  rhythm  can  do  more 
than  caricature.  The  vowels  in  this  English  version,  as  I 
have  here  ignored  the  stress,  are  to  be  measured  by  classical 
rules  (except  that  y is  z).  The  specimen  will  at  least  show 
how  varied  is  the  cadence  of  the  different  verses  in  a single 
stanza : 

1 Literally,  plans  or  thoughts.  No  matter  how  we  plan  to  attain  it,  we  all 
have  the  same  objective,  is  the  sense.  Dad  and  mater  imitate  the  poet’s 
jocose  use  of  tala,  and  nana  (papa  and  mama)  for  the  more  dignified  words  for 
father  and  mother. 


THE  EARLY  LYRIC  POETRY  OF  INDIA. 


43 


Praise  his  great  might,  Indra  the  king 
Of  earthly  kings,  the  fear  of  all, 

Bright  Indra  ruleth  e’en  the  gods 
In  glory,  ever,  as  of  old.1 

Indra  our  army  always  leads, 

Lofty  his  home  above  the  earth  ; 

Great  is  Indra,  the  lord  of  wealth, 

In  worlds  on  high,  the  mighty  one. 

Extraordinary  ruler,  he  ! 

Indra  wisely,  the  chief  of  heaven, 

Keigns  o’er  all  worlds,  the  lordly  king, 

Whose  priest  gains  wealth  on  earth,  in  heaven. 

It  is  Indra  rules  above  there,2 
Yon  proud  Indra,  adored  of  all ; 

Baise  up  a chorus  all  to  him 
In  a band  joined  to  worship  well. 

As  indicated  here,  the  iambic  cadence  is  not  always  that  of 
the  end  of  the  verse,  and  sometimes  we  find  trochee  and 
spondee  fairly  ousting  the  iambi  from  this  their  strongest 
position.  The  chief  difference  between  this  and  the  subse- 
quent gloka  style  is  in  the  later  adjustment  of  the  half-stanza 
to  make  one  period,  in  which  the  first  part  (or  quarter  of  the 
whole  stanza)  shall  end  in  an  iambus  and  spondee  (trochee), 

the  second  in  iambics  only  or  iambic-pyrrhic  ( y ^ versus 

u-wid).  This  arrangement  was  already  growing  popular  in 
the  Yedic  age,  and  subsequently  it  became  the  rule. 

But  this  metre,  perhaps  on  account  of  its  confined  form 
and  rather  choppy  rhythm,  was  not  that  chosen  to  give  full 
play  to  intense  feeling.  Hence  we  find  that  the  most  spir- 
ited effusions  of  the  first  lyric  poets  are  couched  in  more 
dithyrambic  verse.  This  verse  was  one  of  the  two  oldest 
forms  which  the  Yedic  poets  shared  with  the  Iranians;  for  at 
the  beginning  of  the  first  millennium  B.  c.  the  Indo-Iranians 
were  probably  living  together  near  the  Indus.  But  the  former 

1 Compare  the  verse  dasmasya  vasu  rdtha  a,  not  so  common  a combination 
as  some  of  the  others. 

a Compare  a verse  of  this  sort  in  the  poem  above,  jarattbhir  dsadhibhih. 


44 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


had  already  modified  the  metre  from  the  inchoate  form  it  had 
at  first,  a mere  counted  string  of  eleven  syllables,  short  or  long. 
On  the  other  hand,  as  compared  with  what  this  metre  became 
afterwards,  the  Vedic  trishtubh  (as  it  was  called)  was  still  very 
free ; for  later  the  length  of  every  syllable  became  nearly  ster- 
eotyped, and  the  caesura  too  tended  to  be  cut  after  the  fourth, 
so  that  there  was  little  variety  in  the  verse,  and  the  regularity 
with  which  a choriambus  occurred  in  its  middle  gave  it  the 
appearance  of  two  or  three  similar  groups,  ^ _ w 

^ (— ).  In  this,  the  classical  form,  the  middle  dactyl  has 
quite  altered  the  old  Vedic  trishtubh,  which  admits  a dactyl 
only  as  one  of  many  variations,  so  that  in  the  latter  there  is 
no  constant  choriambic  effect,  and  consequently  the  equi- 
poised middle  group  disappears  altogether.  Therewith  we 
get  to  the  one  characteristic  Vedic  feature,  not  a choriambic 
middle,  but  a ditrochee  close,  which  is  in  fact  about  the  only 
limitation  upon  the  form,  except  that  the  poets  do  not,  of 
course,  use  a whole  group  of  precedent  long  or  short  syllables. 
So  this  lyric  measure  in  the  Vedic  age,  as  opposed  to  the 
classical  form,  may  be  expressed  by  almost  any  combination 
of  seven  syllables  followed  by  _ w _ w.  All  sorts  of  varia- 
tions are  admitted,  not  only  in  the  middle,  but  at  the  begin- 
ning; Avhile  instead  of  eleven  or  twelve  syllables  (the 
classical  form  also  admitted  the  latter)  ten  may  stand  for  a 
verse,  giving  a double  pentad. 

Nevertheless,  despite  the  occasional  exercise  of  great  free- 
dom, which,  especially  at  the  beginning,  makes  the  sharpest 
contrast  with  the  diiambic  opening  of  the  classical  poets 
and  shows  verses  beginning  with  a trochee  or  even  a chori- 
ambus, the  Vedic  poets  were  already  tending  toward  the 
classical  norm,  and  on  the  whole  the  measure  they  employ  is 
iambic  and  anapaestic  in  movement.  Very  often  we  get  a de- 
cidedly anapaestic  form,  ^ -1-,  w J-v  J-  The  swing 

of  the  verse,  as  compared  with  the  trot  and  amble  of  the 
classical  poets,  is  that  of  a gallop,  often  falling  into  a sharp 
canter,  so  suddenly  changing  that  it  is  impossible  to  suppose 
that  the  poets  had  in  mind  any  “ regular  ” form,  according  to 


THE  EARLY  LYRIC  POETRY  OF  INDIA. 


45 


which  they  composed.  The  general  run  of  the  verses,  ignor- 
ing these  frequent  breaks,  is,  indeed,  not  without  a common 
ground-plan,  which  may  be  given  by  the  two  schemes, — 

5 id.  JL  v A,  w w J u i.  u, 

M u -L  u,  uviulu, 

He  went  to  war,  as  a man  goes  to  marriage, 

He  went  to  battle,  as  a man  to  marriage. 

The  occasional  lengthening  of  the  ninth  syllable,  and  the 
frequent  shortening  of  the  eighth,  when  it  makes  part  of  a 
word  and  implies  a light  caesura,  deserve  special  remark,  as 
shown  by  the  variation,  — 

He  went  to  battle,  as  ever,  a hero. 

A second  caesura  sometimes  gives  to  the  last  part  of  the  verse 
the  forms  w w A,  — , u JLw;  w w,  d.  A w ; 

^ i. , w JL  v-'.  But  these  are  all  very  general  norms,  as  may 
be  seen  by  comparing  with  them  many  other  varieties  of 
the  verse,  alternating  in  the  same  stanza,  some  of  which,  as 
shown  in  the  list  below,  would  correspond  to  the  English, 
“ Hail  to  the  chief,  who  in  triumph  advances,”  if  only  we 
accented  the  second  syllable  of  triumph,  for  example,  if  it 
were  Hail  to  the  chief  who  is  ours,  proudly  going;  while 
others  would  reflect  the  form,  Hail  to  the  chieftain,  proudly 
goes  the  chieftain ; and  still  others,  At  last  he  comes,  whom 
in  old  state  advancing,  or,  O behold  him,  as  upon  earth  a 
god  he,  or,  He  came  as  a chief,  as  a lord  to  rule  us,  and  so 
on.  For  example,  in  the  first  heroic  lyric,  that  of  Vi§vamitra, 
translated  below,  though  it  has  only  twelve  stanzas,  of  four 
verses  each,  there  are  twenty-two  different  arrangements,  those 
that  occur  most  frequently  being  ^ w A w A w, 

and  wAwA,  vy  w A A w A v_/.  Some  idea  of  the  variety  of 
forms,  used  side  by  side  in  the  same  stanza,  may  be  got  by 
comparing  the  following  varieties,  not  half  of  those  actually 
employed  in  this  one  short  lyric : u u ^ w,  u u 


46 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


— — w — v/;  w \j  u,  w w w w 5 \j 

^ ^ w — w — w;  w , — w w v^<  • \j  \/ 

— v-» — w ; — \j  w , w w w. 

This  varied  metre  is  employed,  however,  not  only  in  the 
heroic  lyric,  but  also  in  the  usual  laudatory  or  descriptive 
verses,  the  primary  object  of  which  is  to  ascribe  general  praise 
to  the  gods. 

The  pentad  form,  as  shown  in  a complete  poem,  may  be 
illustrated  by  this  extract  from  a little  lyric  addressed  to  the 
storm-gods,  who  follow  the  lightning-god,  Rudra.  In  general 
plan  the  cadence  is  here  iambic,  but  not  infrequently  it  is 
spondaic,  and  even  the  whole  group,  as  in  the  turn  “ in 
brightness  brightest,”  may  consist  of  heavy  syllables : 

Who  knows,  to  name  them,  the  host  fraternal, 

The  pride  of  Rudra,  on  gleaming  horses  ? 

Of  them  the  birthplace  no  man  can  tell  us, 

They  only  know  it,  their  common  birthplace. 

With  wings  expanded  they  sweep  each  other, 

Like  falcons  fighting ; wind-loud  is  the  sound.  . . . 

In  speed  the  swiftest,  in  brightness  brightest, 

With  beauty  join  they  the  fiercest  power. 

Here  “ wind-loud  is  the  sound  ” apes  lamely w ^ an- 

other substitution  found  in  the  original;  where  one  group 
has  even  a dactylic  form,  ma  vo  durmatirA  The  whole  song, 
being  set  before  another  in  trishtubhs,  ends  with  a connecting 
verse  of  that  measure. 

Another  well-known  hymn,  which  is  enveloped  in  only  so 
much  sacerdotalism  as  is  implied  in  the  final  verse,  “ Let  us 
honor  him  with  an  oblation  ” (perhaps  of  milk,  or  it  may  be 
of  grain  or  of  Soma),  I have  translated  in  my  Religions  of 
India,2  literally,  though  not  with  very  close  attention  to  the 
Vedic  verse-structure.  But  I will  repeat  it  with  little  altera- 
tion here,  to  show  how  marked  even  in  the  earliest  lyric  is 

1 But  in  dhunir  rniinir  iva  there  is  a grammatical  correction  of  the  older  va, 
which  undoubtedly  stood  there  originally  (the  Pali  form). 

2 p.  88. 


THE  EARLY  LYRIC  POETRY  OF  INDIA. 


47 


this  element  of  pure  description.  The  hymn  is  otherwise 
interesting;  since  Vata  ( vata , from  va , blow),  to  whom  it  is 
addressed,  is  Ventus,  the  wind-god,  perhaps  the  same  with 
Woden,  who  here,  “ keeping  the  order  ” of  time,  brings  the 
monsoon  water-clouds  in  due  season.  The  first  sentence  is 
an  ejaculatory  accusative  without  any  verb: 

Now  Yata’s  chariot’s  greatness!  Smashing  goes  it, 

And  thundering  is  its  noise.  It  touches  heaven 

And  makes  the  clouds  ; skims  earth,  the  dust  uprearing  — 

Then  follow  after  all  the  forms  of  Vata, 

And  haste  to  him  as  women  meet  a lover.1 
With  them  conjoined,  together  rushes  onward 
The  gleaming  god,  king  of  this  whole  creation. 

Ne’er  resteth  he,  when  on  his  many  pathways 
He  goes  through  air,  the  first  born  friend  of  waters, 

Who  keeps  the  order.  Where  was  he  created? 

And  whence  arose  he?  Spirit  of  gods,  this  bright  god, 

Source  of  creation,  courseth  where  he  listeth. 

His  sound  is  heard  but  not  his  form.  This  Yata, 

Wind,  with  an  offering  let  us  (duly  ) honor.2 

Yet  it  is  rather  in  recounting  the  great  deeds  of  their  own 
past  than  in  describing  the  gods  that  the  Vedic  poets  show 
their  strongest  lyrical  power.  In  the  first  lyrie  following  I 
have  reproduced  not  only  the  caesura,  but  also  the  exact 
syllabic  equivalence  of  the  first  three  verses,3  though  as  this 
had  to  he  united  in  English  with  stress  (the  Yedic  accent  is 
musical),  in  the  following  stanzas  I have  given  simply  a 
stress-equivalent  of  the  quantity,  not  according  to  each  verse, 
but  not  introducing  any  form  for  which  the  poets  do  not  use 
a quantitative  equivalent.  The  translation  itself  is  as  nearly 
literal  as  it  was  possible  to  make  it. 

1 Literally,  Come  to  a rendezvous. 

2 This  phrase  is  stereotyped. 

3 That  is,  as  in  the  study  above,  assuming  the  classical  rule  for  the  length 
of  vowels  before  two  consonants.  But  to  unite  this  successfully,  with  stress 
and  sense  also  even  for  one  stanza,  was  difficult,  and  the  fourth  verse  con* 
forms  only  by  pronouncing  Beas  and  torrent  as  trochees. 


48 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


This  first  specimen  of  the  heroic  lyric  is  a poem  that  needs 
little  explanation.  I give  it  complete,  except  for  a stanza  in 
another  metre  which  has  been  tagged  on  to  it  by  a later  hand. 
The  priest  Vi§vamitra,  the  son  of  Kugika,  is  represented  as 
having  come  to  the  two  rivers  Sutlej  and  Beas,  which  run 
together  in  the  present  Punjab.  They  block  his  way.  He 
bids  them  obey  the  mystic  might  of  the  priestly  word,  which 
is  holy,  somya,  and  powerful.  The  rivers  in  amoebic  strain 
refuse  to  obey.  They  obey  only  god  Indra.  Vi§vamitra  sees 
his  mistake.  He  then  addresses  them  humbly,  and  in  a 
stanza  of  laudation  to  the  god  acknowledges  Indra  as  their 
master.  Therewith  he  wins  their  approval,  and  as  a favor 
they  sink  in  their  channels,  and  Vigvamitra  leads  over  the 
booty-seeking  host  of  Bharatas. 

HOW  THE  BHARATS  CROSSED  THE  BEAS  AND 
SUTLEJ. 

AS  SUNG  BY  THE  PRIEST  VICVAMITRA. 

The  Poet  speaks  : 

From  out  the  hills’  heart,  as  if  horses,  eager, 

Tumultuous,  in  a race,  newly  loosened, 

As  cows  a calf  lick,  lapping  earth,  the  fair  streams, 

The  Beas,  Sutlej,  in  a torrent  hasten. 

By  Indra  loosed,  and  his  impulse  beseeching, 

Ye,  swift  as  war-cars,  to  the  meeting  hurry, 

Where  streaming  together,  with  thick’ning  billows, 

Each  enters  the  other,  ye  lovely  rivers. 

ViCVAMITRA  SPEAKS  : 

I’ve  sought  the  Sutlej,  the  stream  maternal, 

To  Beas,  broad-flowing  and  kindly,  come  we,1 
These  two  that  together,  like  cattle  licking 
A calf,  hasten  on  to  the  destined  union. 

1 These  words  “ seek  ” and  “ come  to  ” imply  not  only  that  the  priest  has 
come,  but  that  he  comes  demanding  something  (that  he  has  not  only  sought 
but,  like  Latin  peto,  besought),  a common  Vedic  idiom.  This  the  Rivers 
recognize  in  their  reply. 


THE  EARLY  LYRIC  POETRY  OF  INDIA. 


49 


The  Rivers  speak: 

With  thickening  waters,  we  floods  together 
Flow  on  to  the  union  the  god  prepared  us  ; 

Ne’er  to  be  checked  is  the  impulse  that  urges  us  ; 

What  wishes  the  bard  that  invokes  the  rivers  ? 

VlCVAMITRA  SPEAKS  PROUDLY: 

Ye  streams,  that  flow,  duly  in  season  rising, 

Stand  still,  obedient  to  my  utterance  holy. 

My  will  on  the  flood  hath  a might  compelling. 

Your  aid  invokes  KuQika’s  own  descendant. 

The  Rivers  speak  reprovingly  : 

Indra,  who  beareth  in  his  arm  the  lightning  — 

He  dug  our  broad  channels  ; he  slew  the  dragon 
That  held  us  confined ; it  is  Indra  rules  us ; 

Fair-handed  he  leads  us ; his  might  we  follow. 

VlCVAMITRA  LAUDS  INDRA  : 

Be  praised  forever  that  deed  heroic, 

The  act  of  Indra,  who  destroyed  the  dragon. 

With  bolt  of  lightning  all  your  jailers  slew  he; 

Out  rushed  the  streams  in  a wide  course  rejoicing. 

The  Rivers  speak  approvingly: 

Thy  song,  0 bard,  never  shall  be  forgotten, 

That  future  ages  may  acclaim  thee  always. 

In  songs  exalt  us  and  never,  ’mid  mortals, 

Seek  to  defame  us.  We  bow  before  thee. 

VlCVAMITRA  SPEAKS  HUMBLY: 

Hark  to  the  bard,  if  ye  will,  sister  rivers ; 

He  comes  from  afar  with  wagon  and  chariot. 

If  so  ye  will,1  give  me  an  easy  passage ; 

To  th’  axle  alone,  0 ye  rivers,  flowing. 

1 Here  the  repeated  word  su  is  used  for  the  first  time,  meaning  “ if  you 
please,”  “ kindly  ” (puja). 


4 


50 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


The  Rivers  speak  : 

Now  to  thy  words  give  we  good  heed,  0 singer. 

Thou  com’st  from  afar  with  wagon  and  chariot. 

I will  bow  down,  e’en  as  a loving  woman  ; 

As  maid  to  a man  will  I bend  before  thee. 

VlQVAMITRA  SPEAKS  : 

When  all  of  the  Bharats  have  crossed  beyond  thee, 

This  host  of  raiders  that  is  led  by  Indra, 

Then  forth  let  flow  in  a wide  flood  the  waters. 

I beg  for  the  grace  of  the  holy  rivers. 

ENVOI. 

The  Bharats  have  crossed  now,  the  cattle-lifters, 

The  singer  is  blessed  with  the  rivers’  favor. 

Now  streaming  unceasingly  fill  the  hollows  ; 

Bun  full  to  the  brim,  and  be  kindly  ever. 

One  such  “hymn”  as  this  — the  original  word,  by  the  way, 
does  not  mean  hymn  at  all,  but  simply  something  “well  said,” 
a good  thing  in  poetry,  eulogia  in  a broad  sense  — is  suffi- 
cient, I think,  to  prove  that  lyric  poetry  in  India  did  not 
begin  with  the  bon-mots  of  the  fifth  century  after  Christ,  but 
is  at  least  as  old  as  the  oldest  Greek  lyric.  As  a matter  of 
fact,  the  truest  Hindu  lyric  is  just  this  old  Vedic  heroic 
song,  in  which  (as  will  be  shown  still  better  in  the  next 
example)  the  poet  pours  out  his  feelings  in  hearty  praise  and 
curses,  rather  than  the  gem-wrought  bits  of  daintiness  of  the 
“lyric  period,”  in  which  the  poet  seldom  appears  to  be  in 
earnest,  but  plays  with  his  loves  and  hates  as  he  plays  with  his 
delicate  fancies,  making  exquisite  poetry,  but  poetry  which, 
like  all  exquisite  things  produced  by  man,  is  thoroughly  arti- 
ficial. Elaborated  passion,  pretty  conceits  often  done  up  in 
complicated  verse,  that  is  the  decadent  lyric  of  the  so-called 
classical  period.  The  lyric  of  the  Vedic  period  is  rough  in 
comparison.  The  poet  has  mastered  neither  his  passions  nor 
his  verse-form  : he  is  mostly  rude  in  expression,  as  he  is 


THE  EARLY  LYRIC  POETRY  OF  INDIA. 


51 


usually  rude  in  feeling.  His  poetry  is  seldom  the  elegant 
amusement  of  a blas6  gentleman  and  never  the  morbid  blend 
of  erotic  and  religious  sensuousness,  which  we  find  later,  but 
the  straight  and  rather  rough  talk  of  uncurbed  emotion. 

In  the  last  specimen  of  Vedic  song  the  poet  Vigvamitra 
sings  his  lay  of  triumph.  But  a still  greater  song  was  sung 
by  his  rival,  Vasishtha.  It  appears  that  the  latter  at  some 
time  ousted  the  former  from  his  place  as  Purohita,  or  priest 
of  the  Tritsu  king,  Sudas,  and  that  Vigvamitra  in  anger 
went  over  to  a band  of  allied  kings  who  planned  a destruc- 
tive campaign  against  Sudas.  It  is  a famous  battle,  and  is 
known  in  Vedic  poetry  as  the  Battle  of  the  Ten  Kings. 
Instigated  by  Vigvamitra,  these  kings  and  their  armies  came 
against  Sudds,  who  opposed  them  with  only  the  help  of 
Vasishtha,  the  river  itself,  and  god  Indra.  Suddenly,  as 
they  had  entered  the  Ravi,  then  shallow  and  fordable,  which 
lay  between  them  and  Sudds,  the  hosts  of  the  ten  kings  were 
overpowered  by  a flood  sent  by  Indra,  — one  of  the  sudden 
risings  common  to  all  the  great  northern  snow-fed  rivers,  — 
and  so  found  death  where  they  had  hoped  for  booty. 

This  overthrow  is  sung  with  biting  sarcasm  by  Vasishtha. 
The  lyric  abounds  in  jeering  puns,  of  which  I reproduce  only 
a few.  The  one  most  used  is  a play  on  the  name  Vigvamitra, 
which  is  literally  “ friend  of  all.”  What  sort  of  a friend  he 
was  to  those  whom  he  led  to  death  is  described  in  taunting 
phrase  by  his  rival.  The  play  on  the  name  of  Lion  (of  the 
Punjab!)  is  more  obvious  than  the  one  connected  with  it 
and  contained  in  the  etymology  of  Tritsu,  which  is  literally 
the  “ piercer.”  As  (the  horn  of)  a goat  pierces,  so,  says  the 
poet,  with  Indra’s  help,  but  otherwise  undefended,  the  Piercer 
smote  the  Lion.  I omit  the  formal  introduction,  which  sim- 
ply asks  that  Indra’s  good-will  may  continue  in  the  future 
as  in  the  past;  as  also  a receipt  for  the  reward  gained  by 
Vasishtha  for  composing  this  triumphal  ode,  which,  after  the 
manner  of  the  times,  was  appended  to  the  ode  itself  and 
sung  on  other  occasions,  to  please  the  family  of  the  royal 
donor.  It  is  evident  that  the  reward  was  not  given  till  the 


52 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


song  had  had  its  effect,  so  that  it  has  nothing  to  do  with  the 
real  lyric.  The  place  of  this  sort  of  verses  is  such  as  might 
have  been  that  of  an  additional  stanza  composed  by  Pindar 
as  a thank-offering  for  the  reward  of  his  services  to  the  Syra- 
cusan and  subsequently  sung  as  part  of  the  whole.  In  the 
translation  of  the  ode  I have  generally  followed  the  inter- 
pretation made  by  me  some  years  ago,  but  with  two  or  three 
changes  suggested  by  more  mature  consideration.1  1 also 
omit  one  stanza  containing  the  names  of  some  of  the  foes. 

The  river  Ravi  (Parushni,  so  named  at  the  beginning)  is 
called  at  the  end  of  the  poem  yamuna , the  received  expla- 
nation being  that  after  Sudas  had  conquered  at  the  Ravi 
he  withdrew  to  the  Yamuna  (Jumna)  and  there  fought  a 
second  battle  with  Bheda.  But  this  seems  very  improbable, 
as  there  is  no  indication  of  any  such  change  of  position.  I 
interpret  yamuna,  therefore,  as  a name  of  the  Ravi  (after- 
wards transferred  to  the  eastern  river).  The  word  means 
“ twin  ’’-stream  and  may  as  well  be  applied  to  the  double  chan- 
nel of  the  upper  Ravi  as  to  the  Jumna.  Nothing  is  more 
common  in  India  than  the  transfer  of  a river’s  name  to 
another  stream.  On  the  other  hand,  though  “ Bheda’s  ” de- 
feat is  mentioned  elsewhere,  the  Rig  Veda  knows  nothing  of 
his  defeat  at  the  Jumna. 


THE  VICTORY  OF  SUDAS,  KING  OF  THE  TRITSUS, 
OVER  HIS  ALLIED  FOES. 

AS  SUNG  BY  HIS  PRIEST  VASISHTHA  IN  HONOR  OF  GOD  INDRA. 

Sudas  to  aid,  Indra  hath  turned  to  torrents 
The  shoals  (regarded  as  an)  easy  fording, 

And  Qimyu,  the  Lion,  the  god-defyer, 

Our  god  hath  made  as  the  flotsam  of  rivers. 

i Journal  of  the  Oriental  Society,  vol.  xv.  p.  261  £E.  In  the  opening  stanza 
the  sense  is  not,  as  in  common  with  others,  I formerly  thought,  that  Indra 
made  the  river  easy  to  cross  for  Sudas,  but  that,  for  Sudds’  sake,  he  turned 
the  shallow  river  into  the  torrent  (which  drowned  his  enemies). 


THE  EARLY  LYRIC  POETRY  OF  INDIA. 


53 


Of  them  the  leader  was  Turvas,  the  Yakshu, 

Whom  followed  for  pillage  the  Matsya  people, 

The  Bhrigus,  the  Druhyus  ; while  o’er  the  river 
The  Friend  his  friends  guided  on  — to  destruction  ! 

Friend  of  the  Aryan  ! ” Friendly  proved  his  leading  — 

Like  cattle  they  came  to  contend  with  heroes ! 

Sinuers  they,  seeking  to  make  her  miscarry, 

Who  witless  parted  the  Ravi,  the  boundless.1 

But  he,  so  sage,  who  of  wide  earth  was  master,2 
Embraced  earth  well  — as  a scared  victim  lay  he. 

On  bootless  quest  Ravi  they  sought  for  booty,  — 

Not  even  the  swiftest  e’er  home  returned. 

To  brave  Sudas,  as  in  wild  haste  they  scattered, 

All  weak  and  friendless  now,  god  Indra  gave  them. 

Like  kine  on  a meadow  without  a herdsman, 

In  crowds  they  scattered,  the  Friend  surrounding, 

But  brilliant  the  herd  and  a brilliant  downfall, 

As  horse  and  foot  they  the  leader  followed. 

Indra,  our  hero,  he  who  loveth  glory, 

Cut  down  Yikarna’s  best  chiefs,  one  and  twenty, 

And  strewed  them  around  as  a handy  reaper 
Mows  down  in  a moment  the  grass  for  th’  altar. 

Thou  Indra,  who  bearest  in  arm  the  lightning, 

Didst  drown  their  renowned  ones,  Druhyu,  Ailush; 

But  we,  who  elected  as  Friend  the  true  Friend, 

Revering  thee,  shouted  thy  name  in  triumph. 

The  Anus,  who  came  on  a raid  for  booty, 

The  Druhyava  heroes,  their  sixty  hundred 

— Or  six  by  the  thousand,  ’t  is  six  and  sixty 

They  have  fallen  asleep  and  the  glory ’s  Indra’s  ! 

Like  a pent  flood  loosened  we  Tritsu  people, 

By  Indra  guided,  descending  whelmed  them, 

1 Or  the  divine,  aditi.  The  river  is  a goddess.  This  stanza  has  been  in- 
terpreted to  mean  that  the  allies  tried  to  divert  the  course  of  the  Ravi  by 
digging  canals.  But  sriv,  miscarry,  may  be  used  figuratively  as  fail ; while 
vigrabh,  sever,  separate,  part,  may  possibly  have  its  simple  epic  meaning, 
attack. 

2 That  is,  lord  and  master,  husband  ? Or : Strongly  he  encompassed  earth, 
a lord : scared  lay  he,  a sacrificial  victim. 


54 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


— For  evil  their  Friend  — till  to  pieces  shattered 
To  Sudas  they  abandoned  the  joy  of  pillage. 

The  ranks  of  the  mighty,  the  boastful,  sinful, 

Who  knew  of  no  Indra,  them  Indra  vanquished ; 

He,  stilling  the  storm  of  the  wrathful  stormer, 

Their  lord  in  truth,  tore  them  apart,  dispersed  them. 
With  few  to  assist  him,  this  deed  did  Indra,  — 

With  a goat(-horn)  smote  he  a certain  lion  ; 

The  foemau’s  spears,  clove  he  with  only  needles ; 

To  King  Sudas  gave  he  the  joy  of  pillage. 

All  thy  foes,  0 Indra,  have  bowed  before  thee  ; 

Smite  thou  him,  whoever  will  boast  of  rending; 1 
Aye,  strike  unto  earth  with  thy  sharpened  lightning 
Whoever  hereafter  thy  praiser  injures  ! 

Aid  to  Indra  gave  the  twinned  stream  and  Tritsus  ; 

Then  despoiled  he  throughly  the  (helpless)  render. 

The  Ajas  and  (jhghrus  and  Yakshu  peoples, 

They  gave  as  a tribute  their  slaughtered  horses ! 

But,  0 Indra,  not  in  an  age  of  long  days 

Can  a man,  counting,  tell  thy  wealth  of  kindness  ; 
Each  foe  that  has  fancied  himself  a godling 

Thou  smit’st  from  on  high,  as  thou  Qambar 2 rendest. 
But  they  that  have  always  rejoicing  loved  thee, 

And  worshipped  thee  truly,  as  has  Yasishtha, 

Will  never  forget  thee,  the  Friend  and  helper,  — 

So  bright  be  the  days  of  my  lord  3 forever. 

You  see  that  even  to  the  end  the  fierce  anger  of  the  old  bard 
plays  on  his  defeated  rival’s  unhappy  name,  as  he  again  echoes 
the  statement  that  Indra  is  the  true  friend. 

Despite  the  roughness  of  the  form,  made  still  rougher 
by  Englishing,  I think  you  will  admit  that  this  lyric  well 
deserves  to  be  handed  down  through  the  ages.  Its  vigor  and 
bitterness  as  well  as  its  stirring  description  give  it  a high 

1 The  true  “render  ” is  Indra  himself,  as  in  the  second  stanza  below  (“rent 
from  on  high  ”).  “ Render  ” may  be  the  name  of  one  of  the  foes,  the  idea  being 
“ make  the  render  surrender.” 

2 The  demon  of  drought. 

8 My  lord,  the  king  Sudas. 


THE  EARLY  LYRIC  POETRY  OF  INDIA. 


55 


place,  not  only  in  the  antique  collections  of  India,  but  among 
all  lyrics  of  its  time. 

But  now  I must  leave  the  Vedic  lyric  and  pass  on  to  the 
next  stage. 

The  early  phases  of  religious  philosophy  after  the  Vedic 
period  are  deeply  colored  with  emotion.  Not  in  Buddhistic 
works  alone,  but  in  the  Upanishads  also  the  wonder  at  the 
new-found  religion  is  profound  and  often  bursts  forth  in 
lyrical  verse,  as  may  be  seen  in  the  following: 

As  God  of  all,  All-God,  maker  of  all  things  ; 

As  He  that  in  the  heart  of  man  abideth, 

By  the  heart  alone  conceived,  by  mind  and  fancy, 

Who  thus  know  God,  they  have  become  immortal. 

Within  His  light,  nor  night  nor  day  existeth ; 

Being,  not-being,  — all  is  He,  the  Blessed. 

He  is  the  treasure  sought  by  Vedic  poets, 

From  Him  was  born  all  knowledge  and  all  wisdom. 

Above,  below,  across  or  in  the  middle, 

None  hath  grasped  God ; nor  is  there  any  image 

Of  Him  whose  only  name  is  this,  Great  Glory. 

His  form  invisible  is  and  always  must  be, 

For  He  in  mind  and  heart  abides.  Who  know  Him 
As  their  own  soul,  they  have  become  immortal. 

Though  there  is  here,  perhaps,  more  fear  than  joy,  “ In  fear 
I come  before  Thee,”  says  the  poet  in  the  verses  following, 
yet  there  are  other  passages  which  reflect  the  joy  imparted  by 
this  new-found  religion,  as,  for  example  : 

The  Soul  in  all  things  is  the  one  Controller, 

Who  makes  His  one  form  manifold  in  many. 

The  wise  that  Him  as  their  own  soul  acknowledge, 

They  have  eternal  joy  ; but  not  so,  others. 

Among  the  transient  He  is  the  everlasting ; 

The  only  wise  one  He,  among  the  foolish  ; 

The  one  of  many.  Him  perceive  the  sages 
In  their  own  souls  and  feel  a peace  eternal. 


56 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


The  sun  shines  not,  nor  moon,  nor  stars,  nor  lightning, 
Nor  earthly  fire,  within  the  All-soul’s  heaven  ; 

For  He  alone  is  the  Light  that  all  shines  after, 

And  by  His  light  is  all  the  world  illumined. 


But  such  passages  rarely  attain  so  finished  a form,  and 
they  may  be  omitted  here  as  of  too  fragmentary  nature  to 
require  more  than  a passing  notice.  Nor  is  epic  poetry  the 
place  to  expect  fully  developed  lyrical  expression,  though  in 
the  frequent  hymns  to  the  gods  this  is  often  attained  inci- 
dentally, and  even  the  descriptions  of  the  godhead  are  at 
times  lyrical,  not  only  in  their  intense  striving  to  express  the 
poet’s  adoration  of  Him  who  is  the  All,  but  also  in  the 
employment  of  more  elaborate  metres,  as  in  this : 1 

Beginning,  and  middle,  and  end  of  all  beings, 

Both  doer  and  deed  He,  creator  and  creature  ; 

The  worlds,  when  the  age  ends,  absorbing,  He  slumbers, 
Till  a new  age  beginning  He  wakes  as  creator. 

Rare  too,  because  of  the  epic  form,  is  any  expression  of 
feeling  as  regards  nature.  Descriptions  of  storms  and  other 
natural  phenomena  come  down  from  the  Vedic  period,  as  I 
have  shown,  and  are  found  also  in  the  epic ; but  there  is 
little  in  these  that  reflects  the  poet’s  own  feelings  even  in  so 
small  a degree  as  is  perceptible  in  the  hymns  to  the  gods, 
where  at  least  human  desires  play  about  the  divine  person 
thus  besung.  Perhaps,  however,  one  of  the  few  descriptions 
of  nature  found  in  the  great  epic  (they  are  more  common  in  the 
Ramayana),  may  prove  interesting,  and  as  it  presents  the  emo- 
tions incident  on  the  coming  of  the  rains,  it  is  not  without  a 
touch  of  the  delight  which  we  know  that  the  poet  himself 
must  have  experienced  when  the  monsoon  at  last  broke  : 

1 sa  adih  sa  madhyah  sa  ca  ’ntah  prajanam,  sa  dhata  sa  dheyah  sa  karta 
sa  karyam ; yugante  prasuptah  susamkshipya  lokan  yugadau  prabuddho 
jagad  dhy  utsasarja. 


THE  EARLY  LYRIC  POETRY  OF  INDIA. 


57 


Then  came  the  time  that  ends  the  heat 
And  bringeth  happiness  to  all. 

Black  clouds  loud  thundering  covered  space, 

And  ceaseless  rained  by  day  and  night. 

By  hundreds  and  by  thousands  piled 
They  hid  the  glorious  sun,  themselves 
With  stainless  lightning  glorious  made. 

Up  sprang  the  crops  and  all  the  earth, 

Be  watered,  full  of  peace  and  joy, 

Was  filled  with  happy  creeping  things. 

Then ’t  was  impossible  to  say, 

So  deep  the  flood,  if  level  ground 
Or  heights  or  rivers  lay  beneath. 

Like  hissing  snakes,  impetuous,  swept 
E’en  through  the  forests,  waters  wide, 

And  made  new  beauty  in  the  wood  ; 

Where  boars  and  birds,  all  forest  things, 

Drenched  with  the  rain,  exulted  loud. 

The  peacocks,  kokils,  catakas, 

Circled  about  and  danced  for  joy, 

And  mad  with  pleasure  croaked  the  frogs. 

As  we  shall  see,  the  same  motif  is  copied  again  in  the  later 
lyric  of  the  classical  period.  And  this  gives  to  the  epic  lyric 
its  historical  value.  We  cannot  separate  it  sharply  either 
from  the  pre-epic  or  from  the  classical  lyric,  although  the  latter 
has  a new  growth  superadded.  Even  the  form  in  its  simplest 
shape,  that  of  the  gloka,  is  still  the  medium  of  much  of  the 
classical  lyric,  not  to  speak  of  the  fancy  metres  in  the  epic, 
which,  as  inscriptions  show,  may  have  preceded  any  classical 
specimens.  But,  of  course,  as  the  very  expression  epic 
lyric  seems  like  a misnomer,  so  the  lyric  in  the  epic  may  be 
more  or  less  intrusion,  especially  as  it  often  makes  scenes 
apart  from  the  main  action,  or  is  found  only  in  epigrammatic 
collections  which  were  inserted  whole  into  the  epic.  To 
ignore  these  altogether,  however,  is  to  lose  links  from  the 
chain  that  really  runs  from  the  Upanishads  of  perhaps  400 
B.  c.  to  the  classic  age  of  400  A.  d.  and  later. 


58 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


As  an  example  of  a lyric  scene  set  apart  in  the  epic,  I will 
take  one  specimen  describing  the  feelings  of  Arjun,  the  hero 
of  the  great  epic,  when  as  he  was  carried  to  heaven  he  looked 
back  on  earth,  where  he  had  been  dwelling  on  Mount  Mandara, 
the  Blessed  Mountain  of  antiquity.  The  poem  is  remarkable 
not  only  on  account  of  its  description  of  nature’s  beauties, 
and  the  happiness  of  dwelling  in  the  open  life  of  forest  and 
mountain  vale,  but  also  because  of  its  unique  anticipation  of 
the  discovery  that  the  stars,  though  they  look  small,  are  really 
large  bodies  placed  farther  away  than  the  sun,  huge  worlds 
which  shine  by  their  own  light,  a light  less  than  the  light 
of  God  only.  This  discovery  is  vitiated  from  a scientific  point 
of  view  by  the  addition  that  these  remote  “ self-luminous  ” 
worlds  which  “ on  account  of  their  distance  men  on  earth 
think  to  be  small  as  lamps  ” (I  cite  the  very  words  of  the 
text)  are  at  the  same  time  the  souls  of  departed  saints  and 
heroes ; but  that  is  an  idea  which  even  in  our  own  age  is 
accepted  by  many  good  people.  I will  give  an  almost  com- 
plete version  of  this  whole  passage,  except  that  I have 
exchanged  the  last  verse  for  another  which,  though  implied 
in  the  original,  is  not  expressed  there ; but  it  is  expressed 
soon  after  and  makes  a better  conclusion,  for  the  original  text 
continues  with  a further  description  which  is  too  long  to 
include.  The  metre  is  that  of  the  last  selection,  but  I have 
here  allowed  myself  a rhymed  form.  The  translation,  how- 
ever, is  literal.  The  date  is  about  200  b.  C.-200  a.  d. 

When  Arjun,  loved  of  Indra,  came  to  leave  the  Blessed  Mount 
of  earth, 

On  the  god’s  chariot  wreathed  in  flame  he  rose  to  heaven,  but 
still  the  worth 

And  beauty  of  that  sacred  hill  retained  his  heart,  and  as  above 
The  Mount  he  soared,  his  spirit  still  returned,  while  thus  his 
reverent  love 

He  voiced:  uO  home  and  sacred  shrine,  where  holy  pleasures 
never  cease, 

Farewell ! I leave,  no  longer  mine,  this  fair  abode  of  perfect 
peace. 


THE  EARLY  LYRIC  POETRY  OF  INDIA. 


59 


Thy  rocks  and  caverns,  springs  and  streams,  how  often  gladdened 
they  my  sight ; 

With  fragrant  flowers  thy  forest  teems,  and  purest  water  cools 
thy  height, 

Like  nectar  and  ambrosia  sweet.  As  a child  upon  its  father’s 
breast, 

How  oft  I found  in  still  retreat  upon  thy  bosom  balmy  rest, 
Which  followed  joyful  toil.  Each  day  I heard  the  chaunts  of 
pious  men, 

And  songs  of  happy  nymphs  at  play,  loud  echoing  from  thy  rocks 
again. 

Yea,  blissful  ever  did  I dwell  among  thy  vales  and  ridges.”  So 
To  the  Mount  the  hero  bade  farewell,  Arjun,  and  rising,  straight 
did  go 

Upwards  upon  that  gleaming  car,  high  as  we  mortals  see,  and 
higher, 

Where  self-made  glory  shines  afar,  o’er  sun  and  moon  a loftier 
fire. 

For  on  that  super-solar  height,  though  still  below  the  plane  of 
God, 

Beamed  many  a self-illumined  light,  which  mortals,  standing 
upon  earth’s  sod, 

Look  up  and  see  but  fancy  small  as  lamps,  because  the  distance 
vast 

Belittles  those  great  worlds ; but  all  are  bodies  huge  and  brilliant, 
cast 

Through  space  supernal.  These  he  saw,  marvelling,  and  knew 
them  not;  but  they 

Are  souls  that  by  the  heavenly  law,  passing  from  earth,  so  sages 
say, 

Shine  evermore  as  stars  on  high,  beneath  the  height  of  God, 
whose  light, 

Radiant  as  are  in  the  upper  sky  those  orbs,  is  yet  beyond  them 
bright. 

The  Hindu  drama,  to  which  I now  turn  for  a moment, 
introduces  us  to  the  third  form  of  lyric,  little  stanzas  of 
description  and  love,  all  centred  round  and  sung  by  the  act- 
ors, who  are  their  own  chorus.  A detailed  examination  of 


60 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


these  roundelays  belongs  rather  to  the  history  of  the  drama. 
In  this  sketch  of  lyric  development  it  'will  be  necessary  only 
to  point  out  that  here  in  the  drama  is  one  of  the  lyrical 
stepping-stones  from  the  old  heroic,  religious,  sentimental, 
and  descriptive  poetry  to  that  which,  passing  out  of  the  dra- 
matic environment,  becomes  in  the  treatment  of  later  poets 
an  independent  phase  of  literature.  Independent,  yes,  for 
Bhartrihari  of  the  seventh  century  needs  no  dramatic  setting 
for  his  exquisite  lyric  gems,  whereas  such  little  stanzas  do  not 
appear  alone  in  the  works  of  the  dramatic  poets ; but  not  inde- 
pendent in  the  sense  of  a new  creation,  for  all  these  phases 
hold  together.  Most  clearly  is  this  seen  in  the  philosophical 
and  — save  the  mark  — didactic  lyric  of  Bhartrihari.  For  that 
monkish  philosopher  composes  with  equal  grace  his  Herrick- 
like  songs  of  love,  morality,  and  religion.  But  when  he  drops 
from  more  artistic  versification  into  the  Qloka,  his  sententious 
and  didactic  muse  is  exactly  the  same  old  lady  who  success- 
fully conducted  the  epic  poets  through  thousands  of  similar 
verses ; nor  is  there  really  any  more  lyric  therein  than  in 
Hesiod.  For  example,  the  Hitopadega,  a late  Book  of  Pro- 
priety, cites  a §loka  from  Bhartrihari,  “ He  cannot  be  said 
to  be  really  born  through  whose  birth  his  family  is  not  ele- 
vated ; ” just  as  it  cites  in  the  same  metre  the  epic,  “ fruitful 
is  a gift  given  to  a poor  man,”  and  we  may  call  lyric  the  one 
as  well  as  the  other,  or  more  fittingly  neither.  But,  on  the 
other  hand,  truly  lyric  strains  are  found  in  the  same  metre 
in  the  epic  as  well  as  in  Bhartrihari.  So  this  poet  links  his 
present  to  the  past,  as  did  the  epic  poets  themselves. 

But  apart  from  the  didactic  stanzas,  the  model  of  Bhartri- 
hari’s  truer  lyric  may  be  found,  as  I have  already  said,  in 
those  bursts  of  song  which  are  ever  escaping  the  lips  of  the 
dramatis  personce  from  the  time  of  the  fourth  and  fifth  cen- 
tury after  Christ.  Thus  when  the  king,  in  Kalidasa’s  drama 
of  ^akuntala,  sees  the  hermit’s  daughter,  whom  he  straight- 
way loves,  and  finds  her  shy,  he  says  reflectively:  “These 
children  of  the  forest  are  always  inclined  to  be  rather  timid, 
but  — 


THE  EARLY  LYRIC  POETRY  OF  INDIA. 


61 


Her  eyes  she  drooped  as  she  stood  before  me, 

She  laughed  and  pretended  another  reason. 

Nature  itself,  her  love  concealing, 

Even  in  hiding  it  played  her  treason.” 

Take  out  the  environment,  leave  the  stanza,  and  you  have 
the  kind  of  verse  in  which  Bhartrihari  delighted. 

But  before  Bhartrihari  played  lapidary  to  the  Muse,  and 
Amaru,  his  rival,  made  the  fine  mosaic  work  for  which  he  is 
famous,  Kalidasa  had  brought  to  perfection  another  side  of 
lyric  poetry.  I have  just  read  you  from  the  epic  a selection, 
complete  in  itself,  describing  Arjun’s  journey  from  earth 
to  heaven,  wherein  we  saw  that  the  poet  succeeded  pretty 
well  in  weaving  in  a bit  of  description  of  earth  and  uniting 
it  with  a religious  turn  in  describing  the  upper  spheres.  I 
think  the  Cloud-Messenger  of  Kalidasa  may  properly  be 
regarded  as  a more  modern  working  out  of  the  same  theme, 
though  the  motif  is  quite  different.  Here  the  poet  makes 
a captive  husband  address  a cloud  and  send  by  it  a message 
to  his  wife.  This  gives  opportunity  to  describe  what  the 
cloud  will  see  on  its  journey,  and  with  this  description,  es- 
pecially in  the  first  part  of  the  poem,  must  be  compared  as 
historical  prototypes  not  only  the  scene  just  referred  to  from 
the  great  epic,  but  the  frequent  scenes  of  nature-descrip- 
tion found  in  the  Ramayana.  Even  the  second  half  of  the 
poem,  which  describes  the  beloved  wife’s  distress,  must  be 
looked  upon  as  merely  an  historical  evolution  from  just  such 
scenes  in  the  latter  epic.  So  one  by  one,  for  example  in 
descriptions  of  autumn  and  the  other  seasons,  on  which  Kali- 
dasa has  left  us  a beautiful  poem,  we  may  trace  back  the 
factors  of  the  later  lyric  as  they  show  themselves  to  be  re- 
finements of  the  older  poetry.  But  as  compared  with  the 
older  epic  they  have  more  of  the  erotic  element  and  more 
extravagance  of  description  in  portraying  the  charms  of 
nature  and  of  woman.  In  this  as  in  other  regards  the  Ra- 
mayana stands  between  the  great  epic  and  classical  poetry. 

But  I have  already  over-passed  the  limit  set  by  the  title 


62 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


of  this  address,  which  should  confine  me  to  the  early  lyric. 
Perhaps,  however,  as  I have  alluded  so  often  to  Bhartrihari, 
you  will  allow  me  a few  moments  to  show  you,  before  I close, 
what  I meant  in  speaking  of  his  gem-like  poems  and  dainty 
conceits.  But  I do  not  cite  from  him  merely  for  this,  but 
rather  to  show  you  how  far  hitherward  stretches  the  older 
lyric  as  it  appears  in  its  various  forms.  There  is,  however, 
no  reason  to  exceed  Bhartrihari’s  time,  for  the  still  later  mys- 
tic erotic  type  is  not  a projection  of  Vedic  thought,  as  are 
many  of  the  other  phases  found  in  the  classical  lyric.  Bhar- 
trihari is  not  an  isolated  figure,  but  among  the  host  of  later 
lyric  poets  he  stands  conspicuous  both  for  the  versatility  and 
the  perfection  of  his  genius.  All  that  we  have  of  him  is 
contained  in  an  artificial  grouping  of  Three  Centuries,  or 
collections  of  miniature  poems  according  as  they  are  amorous, 
moral,  or  religious.  As  I have  said,  the  latter  divisions  are 
not  always  very  lyrical.  On  the  other  hand,  some  of  the 
selections  called  moral  might  as  well  have  been  grouped 
under  the  head  of  amorous,  or  immoral,  as  Bhartrihari  in  his 
repentant  moods  regarded  the  other  division.  For  he  was 
an  interesting  character,  who  flitted  from  a monastic  religious 
life  out  into  the  world  and  back  again,  not  once,  but  as  often 
as  he  was  moved  to  do  so.  When  a monk  he  wrote  verses 
to  show  that  love  was  folly,  and  when  in  love  he  wrote  verses 
to  show  that  a monastic  life  was  folly.  He  was  a man  of 
emotions,  and  lived  according  to  their  leading,  a child  of  the 
moment.  You  will  liken  him  to  Anacreon,  when  you  read 

The  god  of  love  a fisher  is ; 

Woman,  his  line;  his  bait,  desire  ; 

And  man ’s  the  fish  that  soon  is  caught 

And  cooked  in  passion’s  fire. 

You  must  pardon  the  off-hand  roughness  of  the  translation 
after  all  I have  said  about  exquisite  polish ; but  I have  spent 
no  time  on  Englishing  these  specimens,  knowing  that  I could 
not  give  you  any  idea  of  the  form.  They  are  chosen  from 
here  and  there  — and  translated  perhaps  all  too  hastily  — 


THE  EARLY  LYRIC  POETRY  OF  INDIA. 


63 


merely  to  give  you  an  idea  of  the  content  and  to  show  you 
the  difference  between  the  lyric  of  the  seventh  century  a.  d. 
and  the  lyric  of  perhaps  the  same  century  b.  c.  or  earlier, 
such  as  I illustrated  from  the  Rig  Veda. 

Bhartrihari’s  Love-Century  must  of  course  ring  the 
changes  on  one  subject;  but  it  is  pretty  to  see  how  many 
are  his  quaint  conceits: 

Women  have  honey  on  their  lips, 

But  only  poison  in  their  hearts,  no  doubt ; 

Hence  one  the  mouth  of  women  sips, 

But  squeezes  them  to  get  the  poison  out. 

If  you  think  this  too  shocking,  please  remember  that  it  was 
written  by  a clergyman.  But  perhaps  I had  better  draw 
my  next  selection  from  the  Conduct-Century,  or  moral  apo- 
thegms, a bit  that  may  be  familiar  to  you  if  you  read  German : 

She  whom  I love  loves  one  who  loves  her  not, 

She  whom  I love  not,  she  must  needs  love  me, 

Then  whom  I love  and  who  loves  her,  and  she 
Who  loves  myself,  with  Love  himself,  and  me, 

May  cursed  be. 

But  why  this  stanza  should  be  called  especially  moral  it 
is  difficult  to  see.  The  next  is  of  course  put  into  another 
division : 


There  is  a sickness  falls  on  man : 

The  heart  grows  faint,  the  eyes  roll  round ; 

’T  is  madness  that  no  drug  may  calm, 

To  heal  it  is  no  doctor  found. 

Such  sickness  every  man  hath  had ; 

The  god  of  love  hath  made  him  mad. 

The  god  of  love,  armed  with  five  arrows,  is  native  to  India, 
but  he  is  not  a little  cupid.  In  fact,  it  is  hard  to  define  him 
except  as  an  archer,  for  he  is  invisible,  immaterial,  “ limbless 
Love,”  as  the  Hindus  call  him. 


64 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


I said  that  Bhartrikari  glides  easily  from  adoration  of 
woman  to  most  monastic  horror  of  her,  though  oddly  enough 
the  following  selection  is  found  in  the  Love-Century.  It  is 
the  only  one  of  its  kind  I shall  read,  and  I trust,  though  you 
will  of  course  see  what  is  coming,  that  you  will  regard  it  as 
only  another  form  of  poetic  nonsense  and  let  it  pass  without 
incriminating  the  translator.  But  even  this  slur  must  not  be 
taken  seriously,  for  it  is  meant  to  be  only  amusing,  as  may  be 
seen  in  its  rapid  and  comic  changes  of  metaphor : 

Who  made  this  monstrous  combination, 

This  whirlpool  full  of  doubt’s  gyration, 

This  home  of  wrong  and  town  of  terrors, 

This  garden  of  tricks  and  store  of  errors, 

This  bar  that  shuts  the  gate  supernal, 

This  entrance  to  the  door  infernal, 

This  basket  full  of  all  delusion, 

This  poison-honey’s  deadly  fusion, 

This  snare  which  catches  every  human, 

This  strange  machine  — who,  pray,  made  woman? 

But  Bhartrihari  was  no  coarse  and  constant  railer  at 
women.  He  believed  in  love  and  the  wedding  of  hearts: 

Separation  still  is  union  if  the  hearts  united  be, 

But  if  hearts  are  separated  then  divorce  should  set  them  free. 

What  again  could  be  more  perfect  than  this  version  of  a 
sentiment  which  we  are  not  wont,  I think,  to  regard  as  more 
than  a thousand  years  old : 

The  fruit  of  love  on  earth  is  this,  one  single  thought  of  two  souls 
wed, 

If  those  made  one  have  twofold  thought,  ’t  is  but  the  union  of  the 
dead. 

This,  by  the  way,  is  a (jloka,  identical  with  the  epic  verse, 
in  which  rather  unlyrical  setting  appear,  as  I have  said,  many 
of  Bkartrihari’s  lovely  stanzas,  for  example : 


THE  EARLY  LYRIC  POETRY  OF  INDIA. 


65 


Though  lamps  may  glow  and  the  hearth  be  bright,  and  stars  and 
moon  I see; 

Yet  fail  the  light  of  my  love’s  eyes,  this  world  is  dark  to  me. 

To  paint  a situation  with  a stroke  is  the  ideal  of  the  poets 
of  this  age,  and  though  Amaru  is  cleverer  in  this,  Bhartrihari 
is  a close  second  in  his  skill : 

She  talks  to  one  and  to  another  sends 
Provoking  glances ; while  a third  her  mind 
Finds  in  her  heart;  whom  loves  she  of  her  friends  ? 

(She  loves  one  hidden,  yet  to  all  is  kind), 

is  the  natural  answer. 

The  moral  specimens  are,  as  I have  said,  not  always  such 
as  we  should  group  under  this  head,  but  here  is  a stanza  which 
illustrates  the  poet’s  similarity  to  the  teacher  in  the  didactic 
parts  of  the  epic  : 

One  moral  law  all  codes  proclaim  — 

Kill  not,  steal  not,  do  not  defame ; 

Speak  truth,  be  generous,  modest,  pure, 
Compassionate  to  all.  Endure 
This  law  and  all  its  rules  obey, 

So  hast  thou  found  salvation’s  way. 

More  characteristic  is  this  little  stanza : 

God  made  for  ignorance  a guise, 

With  which  to  hide  its  nakedness 
And  give  its  wearer  fame ; 

Worn  in  the  presence  of  the  wise 
’T  is  e’en  an  ornamental  dress, 

And  Silence  is  its  name. 

Here,  too,  is  another  moral  stanza,  beautified  by  poetic 
imagery : 

The  fruitful  tree  inclines  its  branches  low, 

The  cloud  that  bears  rain’s  blessing  sinks  to  earth; 

Virtue  cares  not  proudly  on  high  to  go, 

And  they  are  humblest  who  have  greatest  worth. 

5 


66 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


Science  too  is  drawn  into  Bhartribari’s  net.  It  is  true  that 
the  physical  explanation  which  serves  his  turn  in  making  a 
pearl  the  solid  deposit  of  water  in  an  oyster-shell  may  be  criti- 
cised as  a wild  guess  and  not  a scientific  fact,  but  that  is  of 
no  consequence,  while  on  the  other  hand  his  assertion  in  the 
face  of  the  old  philosophy,  which  taught  that  “ all  we  are  is 
the  result  of  what  we  have  thought,”  that  we  are  all  merely 
the  result  of  our  sansarga  or  environment,  adds  historical  as 
well  as  poetical  interest  to  this  stanza : 

The  drop  of  water  on  hot  iron  steams, 

Evanishes  and  leaves  no  trace  behind, 

But  falling  on  a lotus,  pearl-like  gleams, 

And  if  its  way  into  a shell  it  find 
Becomes,  that  water-drop,  a pearl  in  sooth. 

Its  altered  self  by  what  it  meets  is  lent ; 

So  all  man’s  qualities  in  very  truth 
Arise  in  him  from  his  environment. 

I almost  hesitate  to  introduce  among  these  light  fancies 
or  even  among  the  moral  and  speculative  thoughts  the  graver 
wisdom  of  our  poet.  But  here  too  we  see  that  he  is  running 
back  along  the  grooves  of  change,  and  we  must  recognize  in 
Bhartriliari’s  religious  poems  the  same  lyric,  though  in  more 
personal  form,  as  that  which  glowed  forth  centuries  before  in 
the  rapturous  words  of  the  Upanishads  and  echoes  again 
through  the  great  epic.  One  stanza  only  of  this,  and  I have 
done : 

Thou  descendest  to  hell,  thou  ascendest  to  heaven, 

Hither  and  thither  thou  rushest,  0 heart, 

Unstable,  uncertain,  in  courses  uneven. 

What  willst  thou  ? That  bliss  which  thou  seekest  apart 
Is  God’s ; God  is  thine.  From  all  else,  then,  cease, 

For  only  in  God  the  heart  findeth  peace. 


SANSKRIT  EPIC  POETRY. 


In  few  departments  of  literary  activity  is  there  a greater 
chasm  between  Greece  and  India  than  in  epic  poetry.  The 
Iliad,  as  we  look  back  to  it,  remains  for  us  the  one  stately 
structure  that  closes  the  vista  of  Greek  literature.  In  India, 
on  the  other  hand,  the  epos  is  a relatively  modern  building, 
placed  late  and  midway  down  the  avenue  that  leads  us  to 
the  first  temple  built  by  the  Hindus,  the  Vedic  edifice  of 
hymns  to  the  gods.  Between  these  two,  the  Yeda  and  the 
Mahabharata  (the  elder  of  the  epics)  stand  other  buildings, 
representing  centuries  of  verse  and  prose,  a whole  civiliza- 
tion in  various  stages  of  slow  development.  The  very  metres 
with  which  epic  poetry  is  adorned  — I do  not  mean  the  metres 
of  the  mass,  but  occasional  embellishments  — are  late  forms  of 
versification.  There  is  much  that  is  primitive  in  this  poetry, 
but,  taken  as  a whole,  it  reflects  ages  of  culture,  philosophy, 
and  religion.  If  comparable  with  any  western  form  of  epic, 
that  of  India  should  then  be  set  beside  the  Rhodian  and 
Roman  epic,  or  perhaps  more  fittingly  beside  the  mediaeval 
romances  of  France  and  Germany. 

But  in  any  such  parallelism  there  is  danger,  and  each  of 
these  illustrations  is  faulty.  Apollonius  and  Vergil  copy 
older  models ; the  Hindu  epic  is  original.  The  romances  of 
the  middle  ages  are,  again,  more  romantic  than  one  of  the 
Hindu  epics  and  less  ornate  than  either  of  them.  But,  in 
general,  we  may  say  with  von  Schroeder  that  the  earlier  of  the 
two  Hindu  epics,  the  Mahabharata,  answers  for  rough  compari- 
son to  the  Nibelungen,  the  Ramayana  to  the  Parcival. 

As  was  to  be  expected  in  poetry  such  as  this,  the  wisdom  of 
antiquity  is  engrafted  upon  it.  But  we  find  more  than  this, 
for  in  the  Mahabharata  — the  Ramayana  has  something  of 


68 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


the  same  sort,  but  it  is  too  clearly  a modern  addition  to 
discuss  — there  are  interpolated  tedious  sermons,  tractates 
on  morality,  philosophical  essays,  religious  discussions,  inter- 
minable laudations  of  the  supreme  gods,  all  set  into  the 
poem  as  distinct  pieces,  having  nothing  to  do  with  the  action, 
some  of  them  clearly  differentiated  by  metre  from  the  poem 
itself. 

W e must,  then,  if  we  would  get  at  the  original  epic,  dis- 
card this  alien  mass,  and  in  many  cases  it  is  easy  to  see 
how  the  first  poem  has  been  distorted  by  it.  In  fact,  the 
greater  epic,  as  it  stands  to-day,  is  so  heterogeneous  that  only 
the  most  unliistorical  type  of  mind  could  view  all  this  heap 
of  goods  and  rubbish  as  the  product  of  one  uniform  source. 
Such  a theory  has  indeed  actually  been  suggested,  but  it  was 
too  fantastic  to  find  support,  and  has  awakened  only  a passing 
interest. 

If  we  compare  the  two  epics,  we  shall  find  quite  a difference 
between  them.  The  huge  Mahabharata  is  seven  times  as 
long  as  the  Iliad  and  Odyssey  put  together;  the  Ramayana 
is  but  a quarter  as  long  as  the  Mahabharata.  The  Ramayana 
is  more  symmetrical,  more  homogeneous,  and  lastly  it  is  more 
refined,  both  in  its  visibly  polished  metre  and  in  its  social 
atmosphere.  A further  distinction  is  to  be  noticed.  The 
Bharata  poem  belongs  to  the  west,  the  region  about  Delhi ; 
the  Ramayana,  to  the  east,  to  Oudh,  the  region  north  of 
Benares.  Nevertheless,  the  style  of  the  two  epics  is  in  so 
far  related  as  to  be  formed  to  a great  extent  on  identical 
phraseology.  Both  epics  have  the  same  proverbs  and  know 
the  same  stories.  All  of  this  shows  that  the  ancient  tale  of 
the  northwest  has  been  transplanted  into  the  new  seat  of 
culture  about  Benares,  and  that  the  Mahabharata  was  com- 
pleted where  the  Ramayana  began.  In  the  course  of  this 
brief  survey  I cannot  go  into  the  further  reasons  for  this 
assumption,  but  I may  add  that  all  the  literary  indications 
point  to  this  explanation,  such,  for  example,  as  that  the  tales 
woven  into  the  later  epic  are  almost  always  set  about  the 
lower  Ganges. 


SANSKRIT  EPIC  POETRY. 


69 


To  turn  from  the  finished  product  to  the  origin  of  these 
two  poems,  which  arose  far  apart  but  ended  in  the  same 
literary  environment,  of  the  source  of  the  Ramayana  there  is 
little  to  say,  for  it  is  attributed  as  definitely  and  regularly  to 
Yalmiki  as  is  the  iEneid  to  Vergil,  whom  the  Hindu  author 
preceded  by  several  centuries.  Now,  tradition  ascribes  the 
great  epic  also  — that  is,  the  Mahabharata  (which  means  the 
great  Bharata  story  and  so  may  be  called  simply  the  Bharata) — 
to  a certain  Vyasa ; but  this  Vyasa  is  a very  shadowy  person,  to 
whom  is  ascribed  also  the  arrangement  of  the  Vedas  and  other 
works,  his  name  meaning  merely  arranger  or  disposer.  In 
fact,  his  name  probably  covers  a guild  of  revisors  and  retellers 
of  the  tale.  Moreover,  there  is  internal  evidence  that  the 
poem  has  been  rewritten.  There  is,  in  a word,  no  one  author 
of  the  great  epic.  It  was  handed  down  piece-meal  at  first  in 
ancient  lays.  These  became  recitations  and,  united  with 
heterogeneous  material  of  all  sorts,  were  at  last  bound  to- 
gether as  one  loosely  connected  whole. 

The  manner  of  presenting  the  primitive  lays  out  of  which 
arose  the  first  epic  stories  was  as  follows : At  a certain 
point  in  the  performance  of  a sacrifice  the  ritual  demanded 
that  two  or  three  singers  should  step  forward  with  lutes  or 
lyres  in  their  hands,  and,  to  quote  verbatim  from  the  antique 
directions  given  for  the  ceremony : “ They  shall  then  sing 
the  king  or  some  other  brave  hero,”  and  the  subject  shall 
be  “This  king  fought  in  such  a battle,”  “This  hero  won 
such  a victory.”  Here  we  have  recorded  in  a formal  rule 
of  the  ancient  ritual  the  very  same  conditions,  barring  the 
sacrifice,  as  those  which  gave  rise  to  the  Greek  epic,  the 
tcXea  avSpcSv,  the  rhapsode  singing  them ; and  so,  later  on,  we 
find  that  in  India,  also,  the  song  changes  to  recitation.  But 
in  India,  epic  recitation  never  became  a mere  reading,  except 
to  the  learned.  It  was  dramatic,  the  reciter  of  the  epic  scene 
flung  himself  into  the  description  with  immense  fervor,  and  it 
was  not  long  before  the  various  parts  were  acted,  for  the  chief 
heroes  of  the  epic  were  deified,  and  so  had  the  scenes  of  their 
earthly  life  represented  as  a religious  service.  The  very 


70 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


earliest  mention  of  such  epic-dramatic  plays  is  in  connection 
with  the  chief  hero  of  the  Mahabharata,  and  his  godly 
exploits. 

I should  be  glad  to  give  you  a description  of  one  of  these 
mediseval  mystery  plays  — mediaeval  means  in  India  about 
200  B.c.  — as  it  is  preserved  to  us  in  the  account  of  a native 
scholar,  who  by  the  merest  chance,  as  he  is  explaining  an 
involved  point  of  grammar,  illustrates  what  he  means  by 
quotations  from  the  life  of  the  day,  and  in  so  doing  gives 
us  a pretty  clear  idea  of  the  play  which  serves  him  as  illus- 
tration. The  painted  actors,  the  masks,  the  dramatic  killing 
of  the  foe  of  the  divine  hero,  are  all  plainly  put  before  us 
by  this  happy  accident.  But  the  details  would  take  too 
much  time  and  they  belong  rather  to  the  history  of  the 
drama.  They  show,  however,  that  the  extant  Hindu  epic 
may  have  come  in  part  from  the  drama.  We  must,  in  fact, 
enlarge  our  definitions  of  epos  and  drama  in  dealing  with 
India.  The  lay  once  recited  became  therewith  dramatic. 
There  was  thus  drama  before  the  drama,  and  these  drama- 
recitations,  instead  of  simply  repeating  old  material,  added 
to  it  and  so  created  new  epic  scenes.  For  probably  there 
were  always  such  plays  of  demigod-heroes,  just  as  we  find 
them  in  village  life  to-day,  as  they  were  depicted  200  B.c., 
and  as  they  are  referred  to  in  Buddhistic  works. 

To  sum  up  what  we  know  in  regard  to  the  origin  and 
growth  of  the  two  epics.  Various  considerations  show  that 
while  the  Mahabharata  as  a completed  whole  is  later  than 
the  Ramayana,  in  origin  it  is  older.  The  former,  for  ex- 
ample, is  the  epic  first  mentioned  in  the  literature.  It  is 
impossible  to  assign  exact  dates  to  either  epic,  but  while  the 
lays  on  which  the  Mahabharata  was  based  probably  revert  to 
a much  older  period,  in  its  present  shape  even  the  narrative 
part  cannot  be  older  than  the  second  or  third  century  b.  c., 
and  its  didactic  masses  are  still  later.  Apart  from  the  didac- 
tic fungus  that  has  grown  upon  it,  the  great  epic  is  derived 
both  from  lays  and  dramatic  legends  (recitations),  worked 
together  by  various  revisors.  It  has  no  one  author.  The 


SANSKRIT  EPIC  POETRY. 


71 


Ramayana,  on  the  other  hand,  is  the  work  of  a poet  familiar 
with  the  older  epic  style,  which  he  improves  upon,  for  Val- 
miki  was  the  first  writer  of  what  used  to  be  called  elegant 
poetry.  The  Hindus  call  it  Artistic  Poetry,  Kavya,  in  dis- 
tinction from  the  rougher  epic,  which  is  simply  Akhyana  or 
Tale.  Valmiki  himself  was  very  likely  a contemporary  of 
Apollonius,  though  the  material  he  used  was  undoubtedly 
older. 

Finally,  one  word  about  the  metres.  Both  poems,  as  I 
have  already  said,  have  embellishments  or  fancy  metres 
sometimes  added  to,  rarely  inserted  in,  the  different  sections 
of  the  poem.  But  the  staple  metres  are  a development  of  the 
Vedic  octosyllabic  measure,  called  qloka,  for  example: 

katham  samabhavad  dyutam  bhratrnam  tan  mahatyayam 

yatra  tad  vyasanam  praptam  Pandavair  me  pitamahaih, 

and  besides  this  the  trishtubh,  a verse  of  eleven  syllables, 
having  in  most  cases  the  rhythm  of  Horace’s  verse,  trahunt 
que  siccas  machines  carinas , but  much  more  plastic.  In  the 
use  of  these  metres  the  Ramayana  varies  but  slightly  from 
the  later  classic  usage  of  Kalidasa,  whereas  the  Mahabharata 
is  very  much  freer  and  in  part  admits  the  older  license  found 
in  Vedic  verse. 

But  I think  by  this  time  you  will  incline  to  hear  some- 
thing of  the  epic  story  itself,  rather  than  of  its  setting. 

The  plot  of  the  great  epic,  the  Bharata,  is  simply  this. 
The  old  royal  house  of  Kurus,  living  at  Hastina  on  the 
northern  Ganges,  become  jealous  of  the  rising  fame  of  the 
house  of  Pandus,  who  are  the  cousins  of  the  Kurus,  living 
at  Indraplain  (Delhi),  and  the  Kurus  plot  to  overthrow  the 
Pandus  by  unfair  means.  For  this  purpose  the  king  of  Has- 
tina, called  the  Invincible,  avails  himself  of  the  magic  power 
of  (^akuni  (i.  e.  the  Hawk),  who  knows  how  to  play  dice 
better  than  any  man  living.  Nowadays  we  should  say  simply 
that  the  Hawk  played  with  loaded  dice,  but  in  those  times 
he  was  said  to  cheat  by  being  a magician  and  by  keeping 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


7 a 


the  demon  of  the  dice  under  his  control.  He  challenges 
the  Pandu  emperor  (Battlestrong)  to  gamble,  and  as  an  Aryan 
knight  the  latter  cannot  honorably  refuse  to  accept  a challenge 
either  to  fight  or  to  play.  This  Pandu  Battlestrong  has  just 
been  crowned  emperor,  “ All-conqueror,”  and  his  rank  is 
higher  than  his  cousin’s,  the  king's,  but  he  comes  willingly 
to  Hastina  on  his  cousin’s  invitation,  and  very  bravely  loses 
everything  he  has,  and  is  banished  with  his  wife  and  four 
brothers.  Then  the  Pandus  plot  and  plan  and  at  last  get 
allies  and  have  a great  war  and  kill  all  the  wicked  Kurus, 
and  so  live  happy  ever  after.  Into  this  poem  has  been 
woven,  as  I have  already  said,  a mass  of  tales,  such  as  that 
of  Nala,  and  pious  discourses,  such  as  the  famous  Bhagavad 
Gita ; but  I must  pass  by  these  accretions  and,  to  show  the 
character  of  the  real  poem,  I will  translate  one  specimen. 
There  is  nothing  in  this  extract,  I think,  that  needs  explana- 
tion. It  gives  the  gambling  scene  at  the  beginning  of  the 
epic.  You  know  that  an  Oriental  despot  may  sell  or  gamble 
his  family  into  slavery.  I have  already  said  that  the  dice 
are  governed  by  a demon  (called  Kali)  whom  the  wicked 
Hawk,  (^akuni,  has  under  control.  The  dice  are  called 
Kali’s  eyes  or  heart  and  are  made  of  cowrie  shells.  The 
scene  opens  as  the  sly  king  of  Hastina  sits  down  to  play 
with  his  cousin,  the  noble-hearted  Battlestrong,  his  emperor. 
Of  the  brothers,  who  are  gambled  away,  none  is  so  conspicu- 
ous as  Arjun,  the  Silver  Knight,  who  is  the  ideal  and  per- 
fect warrior  of  the  epic.  Krishna  the  heroine  (in  so  far  as 
this  epic  may  be  said  to  have  a heroine)  is  the  polyandrous 
wife  of  the  brothers  ; but  this  feature  is  repressed  as  much 
as  possible  and  in  fact  Krishna  appears  as  the  best  loved  wife 
of  the  emperor.  The  only  verses  here  paraphrased  freely  are 
those  explaining  her  position,  as  it  is  explained  in  the  original 
not  only  here  but  in  other  passages.  The  extract  as  here 
given  shortens  the  original  somewhat,  but  otherwise  follows 
it  closely,  though  it  is  not  always  quite  literal ; but  it  repro- 
duces the  scene  as  exactly  perhaps  as  the  Occident  can  at 
times  imitate  the  Orient. 


SANSKRIT  EPIC  POETRY. 


73 


Now  when  the  dawn  awoke  the  earth  and  glory  filled  the  sky, 

As  out  of  Night’s  dark  prisouhold  the  great  sun  rose  on  high, 
Then  came  the  lords  of  Hastina  and  sought  the  gaming-hall, 
Where  two  by  two  the  elders  sat  — long  rows  about  the  wall. 

The  Hawk  stood  in  the  midst  of  them,  beside  him  lay  the  dice, 
Within  the  hand  of  Battlestrong  rested  a pearl  of  price. 

“ Now,  Qakun,  name  thy  stake,”  said  he,  “ for  here  in  hand  I hold 
A pearl,  whose  mother  was  the  sea,  set  in  a ring  of  gold. 

It  hath  inestimable  worth.  Name  thou  the  counter-stake.” 

Then  quickly  spoke  the  Invincible : “ This  compact  first  we  make : 
Cakun  shall  play,  but  mine  the  stake  ; his  loss  or  gain  for  me ; 
My  crown  of  gold  against  thy  pearl,  whose  mother  was  the  sea.” 
“ Strange  compact  this,”  said  Battlestrong,  and  lingered  ere  he 
played ; 

But  in  his  hand  he  took  the  shells.  “What  odds  to  me,”  he 
said, 

“ Who  throws  the  dice  in  an  honest  game  ? Much  skill  have  I 
of  heaven. 

Stake  but  enough  and  play  me  fair ; I seal  the  compact  given.” 
He  flung  the  shells,  down  leaped  the  dice,  their  master’s  heart 
they  knew ; 

With  trembling  haste  they  hid  their  best,  their  worst  remained  in 
view. 

“Now  mine  the  throw,”  false  Qakun  said,  and  took  the  dice  in 
hand. 

The  heart  of  Kali  shook  with  fear  to  feel  his  soft  command. 

The  dice,  obedient  to  his  will,  rolled  on  the  table  tossed ; 

The  Hawk  looked  up  at  Battlestrong : “ Lo ! emperor,  thou  hast 
lost.” 

“ My  chariot  next,”  said  Battlestrong ; “ eight  steeds  thereto, 
well  loved, 

And  gold  piled  in,  against  this  pearl  that  traitor  to  me  proved.” 
The  dice  upon  the  table  rang,  by  magic  turned  and  crossed, 

They  rattled  false  from  Qakun’s  hand.  “ Again,  great  king,  and 
lost.” 

“I  have  at  home,”  said  Battlestrong,  “ a treasure-house  of  jars, 
Unnumbered  jewels  in  them  each,  with  each  a hundred  bars 
Of  heavy  gold.  Now  thousands  stake  and  wager  like  a king.” 
Quoth  Qakuni,  “ Our  Hastina  against  the  stake  ye  bring.” 


74 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


Twice  rolled  the  dice.  “Thou  losest  yet,”  said  Qakun,  ‘‘try 
once  more.” 

“ A thousand  maids,”  cried  Battlestrong,  “ the  fruit  of  joyful  war, 
With  jewels  on  their  bosoms  hung,  in  costly  raiment  clad, 
Adorned  with  anklets,  fair  to  see, — these  for  the  jars  I had.” 
Again  he  threw  the  trembling  shells,  again  cried  Qakun,  “ Lost.” 
“ Now,  by  the  gods,”  said  Battlestrong,  “ and  if  it  kingdoms  cost, 
I yet  will  win.  As  many  men  I pledge,  each  man  a slave 
Fit  for  the  retinue  of  a king,  — these  for  the  girls  I gave.” 

Twice  rolled  the  dice.  “ Lost,  emperor,  lost.”  But  now  an 
angry  frown 

Settled  upon  the  emperor’s  face.  “What  fortune  weighs  me 
down 

To  check  my  skill?  My  cattle  all,  three  hundred  thousand 
kine.” 

Twice  rolled  the  dice.  The  Hawk  looked  up,  “ Lost,  emperor,  all 
are  mine.” 

“ A thousand  elephants  of  war,  four  thousand  warlike  steeds,  — 
This  for  my  kine.”  The  Hawk  looked  up, — “ Lost,  emperor  ! 
Now,  who  needs 

The  chariots  that  those  chargers  drew  ? Stake  those.”  “ Aye, 
be  it  so,” 

Said  Battlestrong,  “ a thousand  cars  of  war,  and  swift  to  go.” 

The  dice  won  all  the  cars  of  war.  “ What,  still  ? ” cried  Battle- 
strong. 

“ But  sixty  thousand  Aryan  knights  to  Indraplain  belong. 

I stake  the  knights.”  “And  lose  them,  sire,”  cried  Cakun, 
“Now  the  rest, 

For  every  knight  retainers  hath,  and  human  stakes  are  best.” 

Or  fear’st  thou  further  play  ? ” he  sneered.  “ Fear  ? ” said  the 
emperor,  “all 

I stake,  till  nothing  more  remains,  my  riches  great  and  small, 

To  win  whatever  I have  lost.  Can  emperors  be  afraid  ? 

Nay,  never  have  I shrunk  from  man,  whatever  casts  he  played.” 
The  Hawk’s  eye  smote  upon  the  shells  like  sun  on  quaking  frost, 
Again  they  trembled,  rolled,  and  turned,  — “Lo!  all  is  played 
and  lost.” 

(Except  his  own  family,  Battlestrong  played  everything  he 
had  on  the  last  throw.) 


SANSKRIT  EriC  POETRY. 


75 


Then  spoke  aside  to  the  Kuru  king  his  counsellor  Vidur, — 

“ Forbid  the  play  ; stop  while  ye  may,  for  sorrow,  be  ye  sure, 
Will  follow  on  the  track  of  gain.  This  Hawk  is  false  at  heart. 
What  mean  ye,  then,  to  leave  your  kin  ? What  think  ye  ? 
Will  they  part 

Thus  calmly  from  the  greatest  throne  god  Indra  looks  upon  ? 
Now  hearken  to  a wise  man’s  words,  for  all  your  wits  are  gone. 
Ye  stand  above  a precipice,  and  see  not  to  your  feet ; 

Your  gain  is  loss;  your  winnings,  death;  for  Justice’s  steps  are 
fleet. 

What  though  our  Aryan  law  prevents  yon  knights  from  speaking 
now, 

And  if  until  the  emperor  stop  they  still  must  smile  and  bow 
Before  the  madness  of  their  king  ? Think  ye,  when  once ’t  is 
done, 

That  they  will  hand  ye  Indraplain  ? ’T  is  no  man’s  skill  hath 
won. 

What  if  these  honest  fools  at  last  see  straight  ? Stop  while 
ye  may, 

Or  long  shall  Hastina  lament  the  playing  played  to-day.” 

Up  flared  the  wrath  of  Hastina : “ Whate’er  we  Kurus  do 
Is  nobly  done.  Go,  leave  the  hall ; my  crown  is  small  for  two. 
Who  made  thee  king  of  Hastina  ? I rule  myself  alone. 

My  will  shall  be  my  counsellor.  Leave  thou  the  Kurus’  throne.” 

(I  shorten  somewhat  the  dispute  here.  The  emperor’s 
brothers  stand  gathered  about  the  gaming-table.) 

“ All  hail  the  great  All-conqueror,”  the  Hawk  said,  “ much 
is  won, 

And  all  is  lost ; so  now,  methinks,  the  emperor’s  game  is  done.” 
“Lost,  all  is  lost?”  said  Battlestrong.  “Who  mocks  an 
emperor’s  game? 

And  who  will  check  me  when  I play  for  victory  and  for  fame  ? 

I play  — my  crown  ? Nay,  that  I lost.  But  much  is  left  to  me. 
Eldest  am  I,  their  emperor,  too  ; my  brothers  still  are  free.” 

He  spoke,  but  stumbled  in  his  speech.  Then  cried  the  Hawk 
again, 

“ Now,  bravo,  true  All-conqueror,  behold,  we  play  like  men. 


76 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


Here’s  Kakul,  worth  a host  of  slaves,  for  him  the  dice  be 
tossed.” 

The  dancing  cowries  touched  the  board,  the  prince  was  played 
and  lost. 

“ The  next  of  age,”  said  Battlestrong,  “ and  he  is  good  and  brave ; 
Aye,  virtuous  and  obedient,  he,  my  pledge  is  Sahadev.” 

The  dice  won  all  the  virtues  of  Sahadev  the  good. 

Loud  laughed  the  Hawk  and  stroked  the  dice:  “Long  gaming 
have  we  stood. 

Thy  youngest  brothers  now  are  lost.  It  is  a heroes’  fight. 

And  so,  once  more,  the  next  of  age,  play  thou  the  Silver  Knight.” 
A horror  seized  on  Battlestrong ; he  felt  his  brain  grow  weak ; 
But  drunk  with  gaming  was  his  soul,  he  forced  himself  to  speak  : 
“ I P^y  the  Knight  and  all  he  hath,”  he  muttered  to  the  Hawk, 
But  on  the  table  held  his  gaze  lest  aught  his  fortune  balk. 

He  trembled  like  the  writhing  dice;  he  dared  meet  no  man’s  eye. 
The  Silver  Knight  in  speechless  pride  stood  motionless  thereby, 
Too  loyal  to  his  brother’s  throne  to  question  or  to  doubt ; 

His  life  and  freedom  were  the  king’s  till  the  king’s  game  was  out. 
Into  the  air  they  flung  the  dice  for  the  high-hearted  knight, 

For  his  great  bow  Gandiva  and  for  his  horn  of  might. 

The  eyes  of  Kali  won  the  Knight  and  all  that  he  held  dear, 

The  great  horn  Devadatta,  whose  sounding  sendeth  fear, 

The  bow  Gandiva  wrought  in  heaven,  the  steeds  th’  immortals 
gave, 

And  Arjuna  the  Pandus’  pride  became  the  Kurus’  slave. 

(So  then  the  next  brother  is  played  and  lost.) 

“ Is  there  yet  more,”  cried  Qakuni,  “ a brother  or  such  thing, 

Or  has  he  now  in  truth  no  more,  who  lately  was  our  king  ? ” 

“ King  am  I still,”  cried  Battlestrong ; “ I have  myself  to  lose. 

I Battlestrong  play  Battlestrong,  no  challenge  I refuse.” 

Once  more  upon  the  table’s  groove  danced  Kali’s  eyes  aflame; 
Once  more  the  Hawk  looked  laughing  up : “ Th’  All-conqueror 
hath  his  name. 

All  else  is  lost.  Oh,  foolish  stake,  there  being  aught  beside, 

To  play  thyself,  forgetting  her  who  still  remains,  thy  bride. 

Then  stake  thy  Krishna,  win  with  her  all  that  is  lost  and  mine. 

’T  is  but  a little  pledge  to  lay,  this  youthful  queen  of  thine. 


SANSKRIT  EPIC  POETRY. 


77 


We  hear  she  hath  the  lucky  signs,  a favorite  of  the  gods ; 

It  were  not  wonderful  if  she,  so  wondrous,  changed  the  odds.” 
Now  as  he  spoke,  the  wily  foe,  and  waited  for  the  word, 

The  cheeks  of  the  four  brothers  blanched ; they  trembled  as  they 
heard. 

For  what  themselves  as  slaves  might  meet  was  what  brave 
knights  may  bear, 

But  Krishna  was  the  sacred  love  of  all,  not  only  fair 
Beyond  all  fairness  known  on  earth,  but  hers  this  heavenly 
dower  — 

To  bind  unwilling  every  heart  with  more  than  beauty’s  power. 
For  lovely  she,  and  well  beloved,  yet  not  for  beauty  loved 
So  much  as  for  her  winsome  grace,  which  all  men  strangely  moved, 
And  for  the  gentle  kindliness  that  crowned  her  more  than  queen, 
And  made  her  perfect  in  all  eyes  as  none  had  ever  been. 

Still  paused  the  king.  The  crafty  words  were  buzzing  in  his 
brain. 

“ ’T  is  but  a throw  of  dice,”  he  thought,  “ and  all  is  mine  again.” 
“A  little  pledge  ?”  he  muttered  low,  “ nay,  Krishna’s  form  is  tall. 
How  stately  she,  how  beautiful  to  hold  man’s  heart  in  thrall ! 

Her  eyes  like  autumn-lotus  shine,  her  form  surpasses  praise, 
Welcome  as  autumn  welcome  is  after  long  summer  days ; 

Gentlest  and  fairest,  dearest  — Nay!  If  all  save  her  is  gone  — 
Lo ! I am  Battlestrong  and  king  and  cannot  yield.  Play  on.” 
The  dice  for  Krishna’s  fate  were  flung,  — again  the  emperor  lost. 
“Joy!”  cried  the  king  of  Hastina,  “now  let  their  arms  be 
crossed ; 

Strip  off  their  silks,  these  new-made  slaves.”  The  voices  of 
the  old 

Quavered  across  the  gaming-hall  and  some  were  overbold 
And  cried  out  “ Shame  ! ” but  sternly  spoke  th’  Invincible  to  all: 
“This  is  no  people’s  conference”  (he  said),  “and  kingly  hall 
Is  built  for  kings  ; let  no  man  speak.”  Then  shrank  they  back 
dismayed, 

While  the  dull  light  of  evil  thought  o’er  their  lord’s  features 
played. 

“Bring  forth,”  he  cried,  “this  whilom  queen.”  To  her  of  noble 
birth 

Prince  Hardheart  ran.  The  Pandus  five  bowed  them  in  shame 
to  earth. 


78 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


But  to  the  woman’s  inner  court  sped  fast  that  soul  of  sin, 

And  burst  into  queen  Krishna’s  room,  who  sat  half-robed  within. 
“ Thy  lord  will  see  thee  in  the  hall,  now  come  without  thy  veil.” 
She  looked  at  him  with  wondering  eyes  ; her  heart  began  to  quail. 
She  drew  her  veil  across  her  face ; she  turned  to  him  again : 
“Prince,  go  and  ask  of  Battlestrong  if  I be  seen  of  men.” 

Before  her  virtue  cowered  the  prince,  but  answered : “ Say’st 
thou  so  ? 

Thy  lord  is  king  of  Hastina,  he  speaks  and  thou  must  go  ; 

For  Battlestrong  staked  first  himself  upon  the  cowries’  cast, 

And  when  that  maddest  throw  had  failed  he  staked  and  lost  thee 
last.” 

Then  answered  she,  “ Not  lost  am  I whom  Aryan  law  will  save, 
If  Battlestrong  before  he  threw  had  made  himself  a slave. 

For  slaves  possess  nor  gold  nor  child  nor  wife ; then  how  could  he 
Who  first  enslaved  himself  at  dice,  possession  claim  in  me  ? 

Back,  Hardheart,  to  the  elders  go,  and  say  thou  com’st  again, 

To  know  if  I be  slave  of  slave  or  queen  of  Indraplain.” 

(The  point  raised  here,  in  strict  accordance  with  the  law 
that  a slave  could  not  own  a wife,  plays  a great  part  in  the 
later  development  of  the  epic.) 

He  bore  her  question  to  the  hall  and  not  an  elder  spoke, 

They  were  as  mute  as  docile  cows  beneath  the  wagon’s  yoke. 

But  taunting  cried  th’  Invincible:  “Who  ruleth  here,  good 
prince  ? 

Thy  king  hath  spoken,  thine  to  act;  or  does  brave  Hardheart 
wince 

Before  the  tongue  of  servile  shrew  ? ” Then  angry  back  he  fled. 
He  seized  fair  Krishna  by  the  arms  and  raised  them  o’er  her 
head, 

He  stripped  the  covering  from  her  face,  he  tore  her  linen  down, 
He  bared  her  body  to  the  waist  and  left  her  half  a gown. 

(I  omit  part  of  the  description  here.) 

But  at  the  door  fear  mastered  pride;  her  lips  with  terror  shook, 
“Not  this,”  she  cried,  “oh,  prince,  not  this;  how  may  I living 
brook 


SANSKRIT  EPIC  POETRY. 


79 


The  eyes  of  men  beneath  a robe  that  is  but  nakedness  ? ” 

“ What  odds,”  he  cried,  “ what  slaves  may  brook  or  what  a 
slave’s  distress? 

Thou  art  the  common  wife  of  slaves.”  Then  said  she  nothing 
more; 

But  Hardheart  grasped  her  by  the  locks  and  dragged  her  through 
the  door. 

“ Now  let  us  see  this  beauty  rare,”  exclaimed  the  Kuru  king. 

“ Is  this  the  Pandus’  famous  spouse,  of  whom  the  poets  sing  ? 

Ill  suits  her  such  a wretched  garb;  tear  off  that  ragged  dress, 
And  let  us  see  this  half-hid  form  if  it  have  loveliness.” 

Base  Hardheart  clutched  her  by  the  waist  and  would  the  knot 
set  free 

That  men  her  unprotected  form  from  head  to  foot  might  see. 

But  she  that  was  so  pure  of  heart,  who  ne’er  had  offered  wrong 
To  modest  thought  or  wifely  due,  stood  up  before  the  throng 
Helpless,  while  on  her  stricken  lords  fell  her  despairing  eye. 

She  saw  them  helpless  as  herself ; then  rose  her  piercing  cry 
To  God  in  heaven,  “ Save,  Vishnu,  save,  help  Thou  the  Pandus’ 
queen. 

If  ever  I have  loved  Thy  law  and  ever  constant  been 
In  thought  and  speech  and  action  true  — hide  Thou  my  form  and 
face. 

God,  save  Thy  loyal  worshipper,  and  spare  me  this  disgrace.” 
Then  lo,  a wonder  sent  from  heaven  — for  ere  her  garment  fell 
A cloud-like  veil  in  countless  folds  enwrapped  her  close  and  well. 
But  fear  came  on  them  as  they  gazed,  beholding  how  she  stood, 
By  man  forsaken,  saved  of  God,  in  stainless  womanhood. 


This  is  not  the  end  of  this  scene,  but  it  is  too  long  to  com- 
plete, and  what  I have  given  will  suffice  to  show  that  the 
great  epic  of  India  is  not  without  a certain  dramatic  interest. 
Before  passing  on  to  the  Ramayana  I would  add  that  this 
scene,  which  is  the  beginning  of  the  real  epic,  is  prefaced  by 
an  invocation  to  the  Divine  Bard,  who  tells  the  whole  tale,  an 
invocation  (the  text  is  given  in  part  in  the  gloka  above  on 
p.  71)  which  reminds  us  of  the  opening  of  the  Iliad,  in 


80 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


that  the  game  of  dice  is  brought  at  once  into  the  foreground 
as  the  cause  of  woe.  The  poem  is  related  to  the  descendant 
in  the  third  generation: 


What  caused  the  game,  that  fatal  game, 

The  Pandus’  grief  and  overthrow, 

Wherein  my  father’s  sire  took  part 
And  won  for  winnings  only  woe  ? 

What  kings,  0 thou  divinest  bard, 

Assembled  there  to  judge  the  game, 

And  who  beholding  it  rejoiced, 

And  who  to  hinder  sorrow  came  ? 

This  story  would  I hear  thee  tell 
In  full,  0 thou  of  heavenly  birth. 

For  this  was  that  destruction’s  root 
Which  grew  to  overwhelm  the  earth, 

What  time  the  emperor  Battlestrong 
Rested  in  Indraplain  at  ease, 

When  he  the  All-conqueror’s  name  had  won 
After  long  wars  and  victories. 

The  Ramayana,  like  the  Mahabharata,  has  a later  prefixed 
book  of  les  evfances,  after  which  the  real  drama  begins.  The 
plot  of  this  poem  also,  like  that  of  all  good  epics,  is  simple. 

Dagaratha,  King  of  Oudh,  having  grown  old,  gives  up,  after 
the  custom  of  the  country,  his  royal  power  to  his  heir,  who  is 
naturally  Rama  his  eldest  son  and  also  the  son  of  the  eldest 
wife.  But  Kaikeyi,  a younger  wife,  has  a son  Bharata,  who  is 
next  of  age.  Now  Manthara,  a dwarf  serving-maid,  persuades 
Kaikeyi  to  plot  against  Rama  and  put  Kaikeyi’s  own  son  on 
the  throne.  The  opening  part  of  the  epic  explains  how  this 
plot  is  effectually  carried  out.  Manthara,  the  maid,  hears 
the  rumor  that  Rama  is  to  be  consecrated  that  very  day  and 
rushes  in  to  her  mistress,  queen  Kaikeyi,  with  this  startling 
information. 

I begin  at  this  point,  condensing  the  first  part  somewhat, 
but  otherwise  following  the  original. 


SANSKRIT  EPIC  POETRY. 


81 


“ Hast  heard  the  news,”  she  cried,  “ the  dangerous  news  ? ” 
“What  news?”  Kaikeyi  asked,  but  Manthara  swift 
And  angrily  answered,  “ News  ? why,  news  of  kings. 
Awake,  my  queen,  awake,  for  ’t  is  proclaimed 
That  Daqarath  thy  lord  (who  loved  thee  once), 

Resigns  his  throne  this  very  day  to  Rama, 

That  son  he  truly  loves.”  To  whom  the  queen 
Unmoved  replied,  “Truly ’t is  unexpected 
That  this  should  come  so  soon,  but  long  expected 
That  this  should  happen  ; either  now  or  then  — 

What  matters  when  ? Why  wake  me  for  such  tale  ? 

Could  this  not  wait  ? Nay,  I rejoice  to  hear 
The  happy  news,  for  Rama  Bharat  loves, 

And  Bharata  loves  him,  nor  see  I aught 
Of  danger  here.”  Then  wrothful  cried  the  dwarf: 

“ O foolish  queen,  a rival’s  son  to  love 
More  than  thine  own,  who  sure  is  nobler  far, 

And  were  himself  made  king,  being  next  born 
After  this  Rama,  did  nor  Rama  live 
And  bar  his  way  to  royalty,  — but  now 
Bharat  must  live  inglorious.”  — “What,  thou  fool,” 

The  queen  replied,  “ and  is  it  then  disgrace 
To  be  a younger  son?”  “Nay,  queen,  in  faith, 

’Tis  not  a shame,”  she  answered,  “yet  if  Bharat 
Could  set  his  fate  aside  and  reach  the  throne, 

’T  were  so  much  more  a glory.  0 my  queen, 

Act,  ere  the  time  be  past.”  Now  speaking  thus 
She  stirred  the  queen,  within  whose  eyes  a fire 
New-lighted  burned,  and  thus  Kaikeyi  spoke : 

“Thy  wit  is  keen.  If  any  way  I knew 
To  compass  this,  be  sure  I should  not  falter  — 

But  how  leave  Rama  out  ? Aye,  if  the  gods, 

Remembering  all  that  I have  done  for  them, 

Had  but  in  turn  proved  kind,  some  lucky  hap 
Might  well  have  changed  the  scale  ; 1 know  not  what, 
Rama’s  rash  bravery  or  his  father’s  whim, 

One  of  the  thousand  oft-appearing  turns 
That  mar  young  princes’  fortunes  — but  to-day 
I see  no  hope.”  “ Yet  I,”  cried  Manthara,  “I, 


6 


82 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NE  W. 


Who  love  thee  well,  had  I but  known  before, 

Had  soon  devised  a plan,  and  even  now  — 

Listen,  my  lady,  did’st  thou  not  one  day 
Tell  me,  aye,  surely  thou  did’st  tell  me,  thus : 

The  king  was  in  thy  chamber,  as  I think, 

And  dallying  with  thee.  Was  there  not  a boon 
He  granted  thee,  not  named,  but  to  be  claimed 
Thereafter,  as  thou  would’st  ? ’T  was  years  ago, 
And  yet  methinks  I still  remember  it. 

Recall  the  boon.  ’T  was  not  a simple  promise 
Such  as  men  make  to  women  and  forget, 

But  sworn  to  by  the  gods  and  by  the  soul 
Of  him  that  promised.  Claim  that  boon  to-day. 

Tell  DaQaratha  he  is  bound  by  oaths 
To  grant  the  boon,  and  say : ‘ This  boon  I ask : 

Let  Rama  banished  be  for  fourteen  years, 

To  roam  the  woods  that  south  of  Ganges  lie, 

And  Bharat  in  his  stead  be  king  of  Oudh, 

Till  Rama  doth  return,’ — if  he  return. 

Distrust  it  not,  the  plan  will  work  the  cure. 

For  Daqaratha  is  a weak  old  man, 

Else  had  he  never  thus  surrendered  power ; 

And  well  he  knows  he  stands  upon  the  road 
That  leads  direct  to  the  gods,  the  gods  he  swore  by. 
A younger  man,  stronger  and  far  from  death, 

Might  disregard  those  deities.  Short  of  murder, 
Which  were  a crime  to  overpass  his  strength, 

He  will  not  break  his  oath.  Remember,  lady, 

That  ancient  proverb,  which  all  men  repeat  — 

‘ Man  reaches  perfect  joy  but  once  in  life.’ 

Seize  now  thy  joy.  And  here ’s  another  saw  : 

‘ The  water ’s  gone  and  now  he  builds  the  dike.’ 

Ah,  queen,  or  e’er  the  water  of  success 
Be  utterly  gone,  bestir  thyself.” 

Then  spoke 

With  rapturous  haste  Kaikeyi : “ 0 dear  dwarf, 

Let  others  call  thee  hideous,  but  to  me 

Most  beauteous  thou  for  this  thy  beauteous  thought. 

I do  believe  thou  read’st  the  king  aright, 


SANSKRIT  EPIC  POETRY. 


83 


For  he  was  ever  most  intent  on  gods, 

Pious  past  all  belief,  and  now  so  old, 

Weak  as  thou  say’st — aye,  truly,  ’t  is  a chance. 

I shall  risk  much  ; but  if  the  trick  succeed, 

Then  ask  me  boous.  Go,  Manthara,  call  the  king, 
Tell  him  I ’m  sick  and  in  the  chamber  of  wrath 
Have  hid  myself  and  lie  upon  the  floor 
In  uncontrollable  weeping.  Strip  my  arms 
And  bosom  of  jewels,  fetch  my  saddest  robe  ; 

Go  call  the  king ; tell  him  thou  knowest  not 
Wherefore  I weep,  but  thrill  his  heart  with  fear 
Of  some  vague  trouble,  bid  him  hasten.  Go  ! ” 
She  spoke,  the  maid  obeyed,  and,  as  they  planned, 
Kaikeyi,  stripped  of  all  her  jewels,  lay 
Fair  as  a goddess  on  the  chamber  floor, 

With  heart  aflame  but  wrapped  in  seeming  grief. 


I omit  here  a Sarga,  wherein  is  described  how  the  hunch- 
back executes  her  mission.  She  calls  the  king,  and  the  latter 
comes  to  the  chamber  of  wrath,  — a boudoir  or  sulk-room,  — 
finds  the  queen,  Kaikeyi,  prostrate  on  the  ground,  and  at 
sight  of  her  beauty  and  wretchedness  feels  himself  smitten 
afresh  with  the  arrows  of  love.  He  asks  her  very  gently  why 
she  is  angry.  The  poem  continues : — 


Then  spoke  the  queen  Kaikeyi  to  Dagarath, 

The  aged  king  whom  Love  still  pierced  with  darts  : 
“ Thou  hast  not  vexed  me.  ’Tis  not  anger  holds 
Thy  queen  to  sorrow,  but  my  heart ’s  a wish 
Not  yet  accomplished,  therefore  lie  I here, 
Grieving.  So  now,  if  thou  indeed  dost  love, 

Fill  this  desire.  But  never  ask,  dear  lord, 

For  what  I long ; which  I will  then  reveal 
When  this  my  wish  is  granted.  For  so  much 
I have  it  at  heart,  that  only  this  one  thing 
I make  that  boon,  which,  as  thou  wilt  remember, 
Long  given  I ne’er  have  claimed.” 


84 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


Thereat  the  king 

Looked  tenderly  upon  her  as  she  lay 

In  the  beauty  of  tears  and  fingered  her  long  hair 

Loosened  in  supplication,  while  he  spoke: 

“ 0 doubting  heart,  and  wilt  thou  never  learn 
How  Dagaratha  loves  thee  ? On  this  earth 
There  is  none  dearer  unto  me  than  thou 
Excepting  Rama.  By  his  head  I swear  — ” 

You  will  notice  here  that  we  have  a case  of  real  “dramatic 
irony.”  The  epic  has  in  fact  the  very  form  and  action  of  a 
drama  in  these  vivid  scenes. 

“ Excepting  Rama.  By  his  head  I swear 
To  grant  whate’er  thou  askest,  aye,  by  him 
My  dearest  son,  the  pride  of  my  proud  race, 

In  whom  I live,  whom  not  to  see  were  death, 

By  him  I swear.  From  out  my  bosom  pluck 
The  heart  if ’t  is  thy  pleasure  ; take  what  else ; 

But  doubt  me  never ; e’en  as  I trust  thee, 

So  shouldst  thou  trust  thy  lover.  Have  thy  wish. 

The  boon  is  granted  and  I renew  the  bond.” 

"When  thus  the  king  lay  fairly  in  her  net 
Up  sprang  the  queen  and  spake  : 

“ Shouldst  thou  refuse 
Row  thou  hast  sworn,  lo,  I myself  will  die, 

And  this  shall  be  foul  murder  on  thy  head. 

So  hear  my  wish.  Thou  consecratest  Rama. 

Bid  that  this  consecration  cease,  and  turn 
The  holy  rites  to  Bharata,  my  son. 

But  as  for  Rama,  for  nine  years  and  five 
Let  him  be  banished  unto  the  forest  dark 
Of  Dandaka,  that  south  of  Ganges  lies. 

In  deer-skin  clothed,  a hermit  let  him  live. 

But  king  of  Oudh  before  the  sun  goes  home 
Let  Bharat  be  proclaimed.  Behold,  the  boon, 

Granted  already,  thus  I name ; which  thou, 

As  thou  lov’st  truth  and  honor,  consummate, 

Or  be  forever  that  accursed  thing, 

A king  that  breaks  his  oath.” 


SANSKRIT  EPIC  POETRY. 


85 


So  Kaikeyi; 

But  while  she  spoke,  as  were  he  in  a dream, 

The  king  upon  her  gazed.  So  looks  a deer 
One  moment  shocked  to  stillness  as  he  sees 
A tigress  crouch.  Then  like  an  angry  snake, 
Which,  fury-blind  and  raging,  but  encharmed, 

Still  helpless  writhes,  within  its  circle  bound, 
Whence  no  escape,  he  hissed : “ Thou  traitress  vile 
What  ill  hath  Kama  done  thee  ? What  have  I ? 
Like  his  own  mother  hath  he  treated  thee, 

Thou  poison-hiding  viper  that  unknown 
I deemed  a thing  divine.  What,  Eama,  Eama  ? 

My  best  loved  son,  my  soul,  my  very  self, 

My  life,  my  all  ? Nay,  surely ’t  is  a trick 
To  test  my  love  for  Bharat.  What,  no  trick  ? 

0 oath  that  I have  sworn,  O beast  that  hold’st 
My  heart  within  thy  fangs,  what  prayer  can  move 
Thy  savage  spirit  ? Is  any  bitter  means 

Of  self-abasement  open  ? As  for  me, 

1 shrink  at  naught  that  promises  me  shame, 

If  but  that  shame  protect  the  son  I love. 

See  me,  Kaikeyi,  as  before  the  gods 
Suppliant  I lie,  who  never  begged  before. 

Be  pitiful,  queen,  unsay  the  spoken  word. 

The  king  of  Oudh  I kneel,  a poor  old  man, 
Entreating  only  mercy.  Take  thou  all 

I have ; my  realm  from  east  to  western  ocean 
Extends  its  wealth  to  thee.  Take  all  save  this. 
Look  where  I lie  beseeching,  I,  the  king  — 

My  tears  are  on  thy  feet.” 

So,  whelmed  in  grief, 

Babbling  his  woe,  lay  the  great  king  of  Oudh. 

But  him  the  queen  Kaikeyi,  full  of  scorn 
And  wrath,  addressed : 

“ Ask  mercy  of  the  gods 

If  thou  dare  break  thine  oath.  Hark,  Daqarath. 
Thou  hast  lived  long,  and  ever ’t  was  thy  boast 
To  honor  truth  and  virtue.  Was  all  this 
But  idle  words  ? And  shortly,  when  thou  seest 


86 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


The  gods  in  heaven,  what  wilt  thou  answer  them, 

If  they  shall  question  — ‘ She  to  whom  I swore 
Sits  cheated  of  her  oath  ’ ? 0 shameless  king  ! 

Nay,  having  promised,  thou  art  bound.  Why  whine 
Like  a base  beggar,  crouching  here  for  alms 
He  ne’er  will  get  ? Shall  I surrender  now  ? 

I yield  no  single  particle  of  this  oath. 

Hear,  all  ye  gods,  who  witnessed  what  he  swore, 

Ye  gods  to  whom  this  impious  wretch  would  lie, 

Witness  for  me  if  Dagarath  keep  his  word 
Or  prove  a perjurer  in  the  face  of  heaven. 

Behold!  They  hear  me,  all  the  heavenly  host, 

Who  know  thy  oath.  Thou  dar’st  not  break  the  oath. 

’T  is  mine,  ’t  is  mine,  I claim  the  boon  intact. 

Bharat  shall  reign.”  But  as  she  spoke,  the  king 
Sank  at  her  feet  and  fainted  where  he  lay. 

You  must  not  imagine,  however,  that  the  whole  epic  is 
carried  out  in  this  intense  fashion.  The  scenes  immediately 
following  are,  it  is  true,  also  dramatic.  The  king  revives. 
There  is  a fine  scene  where  he  tells  Rama  what  has  happened, 
and  Rama,  despite  the  entreaties  of  his  mother  and  the  urgent 
request  of  his  brother  and  friends  that  he  should  resist,  de- 
clares that  he  will  carry  out  to  the  full  the  letter  of  the  oath, 
even  when  Dagaratha  dies  of  grief,  as  happens  soon  after.  The 
virtuous  Bharata,  when  he  learns  of  the  circumstances,  will 
not  consent  to  reign.  Finally  as  Rama  insists  on  fulfilling 
the  king’s  promise  and  leaves  the  city  with  his  jroung  wife 
Sita,  Bharata  consents  only  to  act  as  his  viceroy  during  his 
absence,  and  as  a sign  of  submission  to  Rama,  he  wears  the 
latter’s  sandals  on  his  head,  a protest  against  his  own  eleva- 
tion. But  after  these  city  scenes,  which  are  more  or  less 
dramatic,  the  poet  or  poets  who  rewrote  the  epic  give  a 
long  interlude  which  is  less  dramatic  than  idyllic.  Rama’s 
wife  and  his  faithful  brother  Lakshman  go  with  him,  the 
latter  as  a fidus  Achates,  and  they  pass  several  years  in 
hermit  life.  The  situation  is  rather  difficult,  for  as  the  poet 
has  to  indicate  a long  lapse  of  time  ere  begius  the  war  which 


SANSKRIT  EPIC  POETRY. 


87 


ends  the  story,  there  is  little  for  him  to  say  except  to  describe 
an  occasional  feat  of  Rama’s,  and  so  he  spends  a good  deal 
of  time  in  reporting  the  conversations  between  Rama,  his 
wife,  and  his  brother.  It  is  especially  these  scenes  which 
make  the  Ramayana  a romantic  epic  in  contrast  with  the 
heroic  style  of  the  older  epos.  Sita  is  a charming  crea- 
tion, an  unaffected  innocent  and  devoted  young  wife,  eigh- 
teen years  old,  who  worships  Rama ; but  she  often  appears 
as  a mere  lay  figure,  listening  while  Rama  makes  love 
to  her  or  explains  the  beauty  of  the  sceneiy.  There  is  a 
great  deal  of  sentimentality,  but  most  of  it  is  contained  in 
descriptions  of  nature.  At  Citrakuta,  for  example,  one 
complete  Sarga  (with  only  a few  repetitive  verses  omitted) 
is  as  follows : 

There  dwelt  he  long  and  for  the  mountain  felt 
A true  affection.  And  oft  his  wife  to  please 
And  his  own  mind  distract,  as  might  the  king 
Of  all  the  heavenly  gods  show  to  his  spouse 
The  joys  of  heaven,  so  Rama  showed  to  Sita 
The  mountain  Citrakuta,  saying  : “ Lo, 

Not  loss  of  rank  nor  absence  from  my  friends 
Distress  my  heart,  who  view  this  lovely  hill. 

See  how  this  mountain  rises  toward  the  sky 
With  glittering  peaks  and  bright  with  various  birds. 

Here  silver  white  the  rocks,  red,  yellow,  there, 

Some  crystal  and  some  topaz,  some  like  flowers ; 

Some  gleam  like  mercury  or  a distant  star, 

Gemming  this  glorious  mountain,  through  whose  shade 
Wander  the  wild  beasts,  tigers,  bears,  hyenas, 

And  deer  they  harm  not.  Many  too  the  birds  ; 

And  see  again  the  trees,  whose  flower  and  fruit 
And  wealth  of  leaves  are  here  displayed  — the  mango, 
Pippal  and  tamarind,  with  the  great  bamboo, 

Love-apples,  fig-trees,  citrons  — all  are  here, 

While  bright  cascades  leap  broken  down  the  hill. 

What  man  but  joyed  to  smell  this  cave-born  breeze 
Laden  with  scent  of  blossoms?  Many  autumns 


88 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


With,  thee,  0 perfect  one,  and  Lakshman  here, 

Devoid  of  sorrow  could  I live.  I love 

This  beauteous  mountain  filled  with  flowers  and  birds. 

And  dost  thou,  Sita,  too  rejoice  with  me 

To  dwell  in  Citrakuta,  seeing  all 

These  various  things  that  make  for  our  delight, 

The  rocks  of  many  colors,  red,  green,  black, 

The  plants  and  shrubs  that  gleam  a thousand  fold 
On  every  side,  the  glittering  peak  above? 

All  here  is  loveliness  — here  let  the  years 
Glide  past  us,  quickly  numbered,  as  we  bide, 

I,  thou,  and  Lakshman  in  this  dear  retreat. 

For  living  here  with  him  and  thee 
Joy  will  be  ours  and  greater  fame, 

The  oath  my  father  swore  be  kept, 

And  honored  be  our  name.” 

The  last  stanza  T have  rhymed  and  set  in  a different  metre 
to  show  that  the  poet  here,  as  he  very  often  does  elsewhere, 
changes  the  rhythm  in  the  final  stanza  of  the  canto.  The 
rhyme  itself  does  not  actually  occur  in  this  place;  but  in 
many  other  passages  we  find  not  only  the  weak  rhyme  of 
assonance,  but  a pure  rhyme,  sometimes  extending  over 
several  of  the  rhythmic  periods. 

But  to  continue : After  a time,  while  Rama  is  away,  Sita  is 
carried  off  by  a giant.  Her  recapture  forms  the  plot  of  the 
latter  part  of  the  epic.  Here  we  have  a very  interesting 
analogy  with  the  plot  of  the  Iliad.  Just  as  Helen  is  carried 
to  Troy,  so  Sita  is  carried  to  Lanka,  and  her  outraged  husband 
with  his  faithful  brother  forms  an  alliance  with  the  ruler  of  a 
South  Indian  kingdom  (where  the  men,  to  the  higher  Aryan 
type  of  the  North,  appear  like  apes  and  are  actually  spoken  of 
as  such),  besieges  Lanka  and  wins  Sita  back.  A whole 
book  is  devoted  to  the  battles  that  take  place  on  the  plain 
which  surrounds  the  city.  As  in  the  Iliad,  the  king  of  Lanka 
comes  out  on  the  city  walls  and  inquires  the  names  of  the 
different  heroes,  though  the  conventions  of  Hindu  social  life 
do  not  permit  Sita  to  appear,  as  does  Helen  in  the  Iliad.  She 


SANSKRIT  EPIC  POETRY. 


89 


is  kept  in  the  women’s  part  of  the  city,  and  it  is  a spy  who  has 
gone  and  returned  that  tells  the  king.  And  as  Achilles  could 
be  wounded  only  in  the  heel,  so  Ravana  (but  he  is  here  the 
ravisher)  cannot  be  killed  except  by  a mortal’s  hand.  This 
has  led  some  scholars  to  suppose  that  the  Hindu  epic  was 
influenced  by  the  Greek  model.  But  such  similarities  are 
not  striking  enough  to  prove  right  this  audacious  attempt  to 
deprive  India  of  her  native  epic.  For  my  part  I should  be  glad 
to  believe  it,  for  just  as  soon  as  this  turn  of  affairs  takes  place 
we  are  plunged  into  a series  of  endless  battles  and  fighting- 
scenes  which,  to  say  it  with  the  fear  of  the  Greeks  before  my 
eyes,  are  just  as  tedious  as  are  the  fighting-scenes  in  the 
Iliad.  I shall  give  you  no  specimens  of  this  kind  of  epic  writ- 
ing, which  is  common  to  both  Indian  epics.  You  know  it 
already,  how  one  hero  fights  till  he  dies  and  then  another  fights 
in  just  the  same  way,  the  warriors  being  described  in  the  same 
old  phrases,  and  doing  the  same  impossible  things.  The  Hindu 
genius  is,  however,  more  extravagant  than  that  of  the  Greek. 
For  here  we  have  not  only  giants  who  think  nothing  of  pick- 
ing up  a mountain  and  hurling  it  on  a foeman,  but  even  foe- 
men  who,  though  to  be  sure  really  shocked  by  the  mountain 
falling  on  them,  yet  bravely  survive.  But  as  in  Homer,  not 
only  do  they  not  die  when  they  ought  to,  these  interminable 
heroes,  but  even  after  we  have  conducted  them  through 
several  cantos  of  myriad  darts  and  crushing  mountains,  and 
have  at  last  with  a great  sigh  of  relief  reached  the  place 
where  the  poet  lets  them  expire,  we  find  presently,  to  our  dis- 
may, that  without  any  warning  or  explanation  of  where  they 
come  from,  they  pop  up  again  on  the  battlefield,  as  fresh  and 
lively  as  ever,  and  have  to  be  killed  all  over  again.  This  is 
monotonous  and  tiresome.  It  is,  however,  according  to  the 
taste  of  an  earlier  age,  and  we  should  be  as  foolish  to  criticise 
adversely  such  battle-scenes  as  to  condemn  fairy-stories. 
There  is  only  one  thing  to  do,  let  them  pass  unread.  We  of 
this  later  age  and  western  world  are  more  for  thought  than 
for  action.  The  ancients  regarded  character  sketches  as 
ancillary  to  a spirited  tale,  and  if  they  rejoiced  in  giants, 


90 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


genii,  apes,  and  devils,  and  we  do  not,  it  is  our  fault  if  we  fail 
to  appreciate  their  pleasure.1 

The  end  of  this  long  contest  brings  us  face  to  face  with 
another  example  of  the  difference  between  Occidental  and 
Oriental  notions,  this  time  unhappily  where  it  affects  the 
chivalry  of  Rama.  You  must  remember  that  Rama  was 
robbed  of  Sita  when  he  was  away  from  his  hermitage.  He 
has  only  Sita’s  word  for  it  that  she  was  carried  awajr  unwill- 
ingly. She  has  been  a long  time  in  the  ruffian’s  palace. 
When  she  is  rescued,  Rama,  who  has  been  described  through- 
out as  most  devotedly  attached  to  her  and  has  really  never 
doubted  her  innocence,  thinks  it  incumbent  upon  his  good  name 
to  prove  that  Caesar’s  wife  should  be  above  suspicion.  With 
apparent  sternness  he  therefore  bids  her  begone,  well  knowing 
that  she  will  appeal  to  the  fire-ordeal,  and  that  her  innocence 
will  be  proved  to  all  the  world  by  the  god  of  fire  himself. 
“For  otherwise,”  he  says,  “the  world  would  speak  ill  of  my 
pure  wife.”  Sita  herself  proposes  the  fire-ordeal,  and  after 
invoking  the  proper  gods  who  witness  truth,  especially  the 
fire-god,  walks  into  the  flame.  Needless  to  say,  she  soon 
walks  out  again  unharmed,  to  the  great  joy  of  all  the  by- 
standers, and  falls  into  Rama’s  arms ; nor  has  she  any  reproach 
to  make  for  his  putting  her  to  this  test,  so  I do  not  know  that 
we  are  called  upon  to  blame  him,  though  the  scene  certainly 
detracts  from  the  effect  of  the  finale. 

The  poem  ends  here.  The  fourteen  years  are  over.  A 
kindly  deity  wafts  the  party  back  from  South  India  to  Oudh. 
Bharata  is  found  still  acting  as  viceroy,  only  too  glad  to  re- 
linquish the  throne  to  Rama ; and  all  ends  well. 

But  now  I must  cut  short  this  glimpse  into  an  antique  life, 
distant  in  space  as  in  time,  a life  of  desire  and  hope,  intrigue, 
brutality,  if  you  will ; an  unfamiliar  life,  where  it  is  a point 
of  knightly  honor  to  accept  a challenge  to  play  as  well  as  to 

1 Since  this  address  was  given  (Jan.  1901)  a very  interesting  study  of  the 
demonology  of  this  epic  has  been  published  by  Angelo  de  Gubernatis,  who, 
in  his  Su  le  orme  di  Dante,  has  shown  the  possibility  of  indirect  borrowing  on 
the  part  of  the  Italian  poet  from  Hindu  sources. 


SANSKRIT  EPIC  POETRY. 


91 


fight,  the  life  of  a far-off  people  loving  strange  gods ; but  at 
the  same  time  thoroughly  human,  and  noble  withal,  where 
women  are  loved  faithfully,  where  even  a king  may  not  break 
his  oath ; full  of  passion,  but  filled  also  with  a very  modern 
appreciation  of  the  beauty  of  nature  — a glimpse,  I trust,  not 
without  value  for  us  all.1 

1 It  is  of  interest  to  notice  that  some  of  the  quaint  touches  in  the  ancient 
epic  are  not  unparalleled  in  the  life  of  modern  Hindus.  Thus  the  episode  of 
Bharata  carrying  Rama’s  sandals  on  his  head  may  be  compared  with  the 
action  of  Ranuji  Sindia,  who,  about  1700,  “ carried  the  Peishwa’s  slippers,  to 
contrast  his  original  with  his  subsequent  condition,”  as  is  narrated  by  Grant 
Duff,  in  his  History  of  the  Mahrattas,  vol.  i.  p.  480.  The  dramatic  epic  has 
never  lost  its  charm  for  the  Hindu,  and  instances  are  known  in  modern  times 
where  military  operations  have  been  suspended  that  the  chieftain  might  at- 
tend the  performance  of  one  of  the  Kathas,  or  dramatic  epic  recitations.  Per- 
haps the  last  formal  epic  written  in  India  is  the  long  “religious  metrical 
drama”  of  Padre  Prancisco  Vaz  de  Guimaraes,  in  thirty-six  cantos  and  con- 
taining sixteen  thousand  verses,  representing  the  mysteries  of  the  incarnation, 
passion,  and  death  of  Christ.  It  is  called  a Puran,  or  History,  and  was  writ- 
ten in  the  corrupt  Marathi  dialect  of  Bombay,  in  1659.  A specimen  of  this 
Christian  imitation  of  the  favorite  Hindu  Katha  is  given  in  Da  Cunha’s  Origin 
of  Bombay  (1900). 


A STUDY  OF  GODS. 


What  is  the  origin  of  gods?  Herbert  Spencer  says  that 
they  are  originally  ghosts,  even  the  sky-gods  and  storm-gods 
of  India.  The  comparative  mythologist  replies  that  all  gods, 
even  gliost-gods,  are  derived  from  a more  primitive  group  of 
gods,  which  at  bottom  are  personified  natural  phenomena. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  interpreter  of  modern  folk-lore  asserts 
that  the  earliest  gods  are  fairies  and  “spirits,”  and  regards 
the  ghosts  of  Spencer  and  the  divine  natural  phenomena  of 
Max  Midler  as  merely  magnified  forms  of  gnomes  and 
giants. 

In  this  matter  India  is  beautifully  fitted  to  be  the  object  of 
scientific  research,  for  while  Greece  and  Rome  are,  as  it  v.'ere, 
museums  of  the  remains  of  dead  gods,  India  is  a divine 
menagerie  where,  still  alive,  are  to  be  found  all  the  gods  or 
kinds  of  gods  we  read  about  in  classical  antiquity.  Nor  do 
we  have  to  grope  through  literary  remains  for  slight  indica- 
tions of  the  processes  which  gave  rise  to  divinities ; each 
process  is  clearly  revealed  in  present  conditions.  Since,  how- 
ever, there  is,  besides  this,  another  advantage  in  the  fact  that 
the  still  fertile  folk-lore  of  to-day  can  be  traced  directly  back 
through  a literature  more  than  three  thousand  years  old,  we 
may  hope  to  find  some  light  on  the  problem  of  divine  origins 
in  studying  the  present  beliefs  of  the  Hindu,  and  comparing 
them  with  his  theological  annals.  It  will,  for  instance,  be  a 
distinct  gain  if  we  can  separate  the  confused  mass  of  Hindu 
gods  into  categories  distinguished  by  certain  marked  features. 
It  will  be  a still  greater  advance  if  we  can  determine  whether 
these  categories  have  existed  since  the  earliest  times,  and  dis- 
cover winch  gods  are  likely  to  survive  a change  of  home. 


A STUDY  OF  GODS. 


93 


Gods  of  Phenomena.  If  I begin  with  the  gods  of  per- 
sonified natural  phenomena,  it  is  not  from  a wish  to  lay  undue 
weight  upon  this  category,  but  because  these  divinities  occupy 
the  most  prominent  position  in  the  oldest  records.  From  the 
hymns  of  the  Rig  Veda  we  learn  that  the  first  gods  of  this 
class  were  Dyaus,  that  is  Zeus  ; Ushas,  that  is  Eos,  aurora  ; 
Agni,  that  is  ignis;  and  Soma,  the  moon-plant,  Persian  haoma. 
They  who  deny  the  primitive  character  of  sky-gods  are  com- 
pelled to  assume  that  Father  Sky  was  an  imitation  or  transfer 
from  another  class.  But  this  is  opposed  to  the  earliest  account 
of  Aryan  civilization,  wherein  Father  Sky,  or  the  Sky-Father, 
appears  as  a god  so  antique  that  his  name  is  preserved  in 
Greece,  Rome,  and  India.1  Other  similar  cases  of  primitive 
deified  phenomena  might  be  added,  such  as  Sun  and  Mother 
Earth,  but  it  is  sufficient  to  establish  the  class.  By  imper- 
ceptible degrees  we  may  pass  from  these  gods  to  others,  which, 
while  they  are  no  less  personified  natural  phenomena,  are 
usually  grouped  in  different  classes,  even  by  those  who  postu- 
late one  origin  for  them  all.  Such  are  not  only  sun  and 
clouds,  but  mountains,  rivers,  trees,  and  stones.  Without  any 
hard-and-fast  line  of  demarcation,  these,  again,  stand  grouped 
with  such  divine  beings  as  battle-axes  and  war-drums.  Some 
of  these  are  personified  natural  phenomena;  and  some  we 
may  prefer  to  call  personified  unnatural  phenomena.  But 
they  are  all  alike  in  this,  and  differ  in  this  from  the  gods  of 
other  categories,  that  they  are  objective  phenomena,  which, 
though  devoid  of  recognizable  individual  volition,  yet  seem 
to  possess  the  power  to  harm  or  benefit  at  will.  To  prefix  the 
word  “ personified  ” to  this  general  group  is  really  unneces- 
sary. To  the  early  Aryan,  as  to  primitive  peoples  generally, 
the  notion  that  things  are  not  persons,  not  the  idea  of  per- 
sonified things,  would  have  appeared  new  and  startling.  But 
there  is  nothing  peculiarly  antique  about  this  point  of  view. 
The  modern  Hindu  villager  regards  everything  as  alive  and 
animate.  Rain  and  hail  are  not  only  sent  by  a cloud  deity ; 
they  are  themselves  conscious  and  have  volition.  If  a hail- 

1 Zeus-pater,  Ju-piter,  Dyaus-pitar, 


94 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


stone  wishes,  he  (to  speak  with  the  native)  will  injure  a 
flower-bed ; but  if  the  hailstone  sees  a knife  set  up  over  the 
flower-bed  he  will  turn  one  side  to  avoid  it. 

As  late  as  our  era,  it  was  still  the  belief  of  the  educated  in 
India  that  mountains  and  rivers  were  alive,  and  could  propa- 
gate their  species.  Both  these  divinities  are  exalted  in  the 
Vedas  and  are  regarded  as  true  gods.  To-day  they  are  still 
revered  in  the  same  way.  The  peasant  prays  to  them,  and 
believes  they  are  instrumental  in  his  welfare.  Moreover,  it 
made  no  difference  to  the  Vedic  believer  whether  the  object 
he  worshipped  was  natural  or  artificial.  Thus  he  worshipped 
the  sword,  the  furrow,  the  mill-stone,  just  as  to-day  every  ar- 
tisan worships  his  tool,  every  gardener  his  spade,  every 
farmer  Ins  plough.  This  is,  therefore,  not  totem-worship.  It 
is  in  some  cases  fetish-worship ; but  it  is  impossible  to  draw  a 
hard-and-fast  line  between  fetishism  and  the  worship  of  nat- 
ural phenomena.  The  deity  of  a hill  is  the  hill  itself  in  the 
first  instance  ; but  in  India,  especially  in  the  North,  — where, 
to  the  eye,  the  hills  pass  into  mountains,  the  mountains  pass 
into  cloud,  and  the  cloud  into  sky,  — the  plastic  nature  of 
this  belief  is  especially  well  preserved.  Exactly  as  the  peas- 
ant worships  the  sky-god,  cloud-god,  and  mountain-god,  so  he 
worships  the  god  of  an  uncouth  rock,  and  the  god  of  a 
strangely  shaped  pebble,  which  he  may  carry  with  him. 
Each  is  a spirit  in  phenomenon  or  phenomenon  personified, 
for  the  native  villager  or  tribesman  makes  absolutely  no  dis- 
tinction in  this  regard. 

All  this  by  no  means  forbids  the  assumption  that  a deity  of 
this  class  may  become  a deity  of  another  class.  It  is  curious 
to  see  that,  in  the  most  striking  case  of  this  sort  in  modern 
times,  in  contravention  of  Spencer’s  theory,  the  Vedic  sun- 
god,  who  shows  not  a trace  of  having  been  the  spirit  of  a 
mortal,  but  was  first  worshipped  simply  as  the  hot  red  ball  in 
the  sky,  is  to-day  worshipped  in  many  districts  as  the  soul  of  a 
dead  Raja,  though  elsewhere  he  still  maintains  essentially  his 
Vedic  position. 

The  chief  gods  in  India  originating  in  personified  phenom- 


A STUDY  OF  GODS. 


95 


ena  are  those  of  which  I have  already  spoken,  — sky,  earth, 
sun,  moon,  clouds,  storm  (lightning),  mountains,  rivers, 
trees,  and  also  stars.  The  worship  of  the  last  is  as  old  as  the 
Rig  Veda,  but  it  is  not  so  pronounced  as  in  later  times,  when 
astrology  came  to  aid  stellar  divinity.  At  a later  period,  stars 
were  revered  not  only  as  celestial  deities,  but  as  the  homes  of 
the  souls  of  the  dead,  and  finally  as  the  self-luminous  souls 
themselves.  Only  in  modern  times  and  in  a restricted  area 
appears  the  belief  that  stars  are  the  sheep  of  the  shepherd 
moon.  Storm-gods  are  early  creations,  and  modern  gods  of 
the  same  sort  show  that  they  may  be  made  independently  of 
ghosts,  although  it  is  perfectly  true  that  the  ghosts  of  certain 
well-known  people  are  also  revered  as  storm-devils  to-day  in 
some  localities.  But  apart  from  these  there  is  the  modern 
“ East-wind  ” god,  openly  revered  and  placated  as  a mere 
physical  phenomenon,  and  the  whirlwind-god  Bagalya,  who 
is  as  purely  physical  as  the  Vedic  “one-footed”  god  of  the 
cyclone  or  water-spout,  whichever  he  may  he.  So  in  the 
epic,  Ivundadhara  is  at  the  same  time  a “ water-bearing  ” 
cloud  and  an  intelligent  godling,  who  bows  down  to  the 
great  gods  and  talks  with  them.1 

Tree-worship  has  been  the  object  of  much  extravagant 
speculation,  but  the  true  explanation  has  been  given  by  the 
author  of  “ The  Golden  Bough,”  who  says  that  trees  are  no 
exception  to  the  rule  that  the  savage  in  general  regards  the 
whole  world  as  animate.  Certain  trees,  because  they  are  fa- 
vorites of  certain  gods,  are  particularly  holy,  and  others  are 
holy  because  they  are  totems  and  ancestors ; but  trees  are  in 
general  divine  (apart  from  their  dryad  spirits)2  and  especially 
any  useful  or  beautiful  tree.  The  same  is  true  of  plants, 
many  holy  plants  being  medicinally  valuable  and  therefore 
sacred. 


1 Mahabharata,  xii.  272. 

2 This  was  a point  debated  by  Brahmans  and  Buddhists.  The  Buddhist 
denied  that  the  tree  itself  was  animate,  and  admitted  only  a “ spirit  in  the 
tree.”  The  Brahman  recognized  a tree-spirit,  but  also  a spiritual,  animate 
tree  as  well. 


i 


96 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


There  are  in  Hindu  literature  other  divinities  of  this  class 
which  may  be  called  poetical  gods.  Such  are  Day,  Night, 
Twilight,  the  Year,  the  Fortnight,  and  other  phases  of  time 
and  the  moon.  They  are  chiefly  poetical  or  ritualistic,  but 
some  of  them  in  a more  or  less  veiled  form  are  actually  wor- 
shipped to-day.  Thus  the  Year  and  his  sister  Holi,  the 
Spring,  are  worshipped,  and  so  is  Nissi,  Night.  In  Vedic 
times  worship  was  paid  to  the  remains  of  sacrifice,  because  it 
had  been  in  contact  with  the  gods.  “ Even  a stone,”  it  is 
said  in  the  Hitopadega,  “ becomes  a god  when  set  up  by 
priests.”  So,  to-day,  the  ignorant  priest  worships  not  only 
the  stone  idol,  but  even  the  iron  chain  which  hangs  in  his 
temple.  The  chain  itself  is  a real  and  separate  god  because 
it  has  been  in  contact  with  the  divine.  Anything  peculiar  in 
itself  becomes  a god ; anything,  again,  that  has  been  con- 
nected with  a god,  though  not  in  itself  peculiar,  becomes  a 
divinity.  Thus  from  the  earliest  Vedic  period  we  have  the 
worship  of  amulets  and  talismans,  partly  as  being  useful  in 
themselves,  partly  as  having  been  associated  with  useful 
divinities,  whose  power  they  have,  so  to  speak,  imbibed  and 
retained. 

Gods  of  the  Imagination.  The  gods  of  the  next  cate- 
gory are  invisible  spirits,  malevolent  or  benevolent,  which  aid 
or  injure  man.  Such  are  the  giants,  fairies,  and  sprites,  which, 
from  the  Vedic  period  onwards,  have  affected  man’s  welfare 
without  being  referred  by  him  to  other  origin  than  that  of 
pure  fancy.  Here  it  is  necessary  to  distinguish  carefully  be- 
tween ghost-spirits  and  such  sprites  as  have  been  defined. 
The  Rig  Veda  recognizes  the  difference.  It  has  a special  cult 
of  ghosts,  but  at  the  same  time  it  has  a cult  of  fairies.  “ One 
hears  strange  noises  and  sees  strange  sights  in  the  woods 
after  dark, — that  is  the  Maiden  of  the  Forest.”  This  belief 
in  gnomes  and  fairies  is  synchronous  with  the  worship  of  sky- 
gods.  Just  as  to-day  the  peasant  worships  the  great  invisible 
gods,  but  reveres  no  less  these  invisible  spirits,  so  he  has  al- 
ways done,  as  far  back  as  literary  evidence  extends.  As 
these  numina  are  all  more  or  less  alike,  it  is  only  necessary 


A STUDY  OF  GODS. 


97 


to  point  out  that,  apart  from  pure  creations  of  fancy,  there 
are  demons  which  are  ghosts.  These  ghost-giants,  again,  are 
sometimes  confounded  with  phenomenal  deities.  A very 
good  example  of  what  may  result  from  such  confusion  is 
given  by  the  figure  of  Bhimsena.  He  is  first  a national  hero. 
Then  he  is  revered  as  a ghost-god.  Then  he  is  revered 
again  as  a storm-god.  Some  malevolent  spirits  of  modern 
times  are  clearly  and  historically  ghosts  of  well-known  men, 
like  the  village  gods  known  as  Birs,  Latin  vir,  that  is, 
Heroes.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  there  remain  many  spirits 
which  are  not  the  remains  of  a mortal.  Again,  some  fairies 
are  phenomena.  Such  .are  the  Apsarasas,  which,  as  their 
name  shows,  are  “water-nymphs,”  scarcely  to  be  differen- 
tiated from  divine  water  revered  as  a divinity.  But  their 
consorts,  the  angelic  Gandharvas,  appear  to  be  dissociated 
from  all  material  substance,  though  at  a late  period  they  are 
identified  with  the  stars. 

Both  these  sorts  of  divinities  are  Vedic.  Soon  after,  and 
perhaps  really  synchronous  with  them,  appear  the  Yakshasas, 
beautiful  genii,  chiefly  of  the  woods,  creations  of  the  imagina- 
tion ; the  Rakshasas,  gigantic  fiends ; and  the  little  Bhuts, 
“beings,”  or  demons  whose  type  is  Vetala,  a Bhut  that  is 
to-day  in  process  of  becoming  identified  with  the  greatest 
god  in  the  pantheon.  The  ancient  Vedic  spirits  of  this 
class,  Daityas  and  Danavas,  are  still  religiously  worshipped  as 
Daits  and  Danos.  On  the  other  hand,  the  bright  Devas  of 
the  Veda,  gods  of  natural  phenomena,  have  now  been  gen- 
erally reduced  to  the  condition  of  Bhuts,  and  under  the 
modern  name  of  Deo  are  worshipped  as  insignificant  spirits. 
Dyaus  himself  became  in  the  epic  period  a sort  of  Hermes, 
famous  chiefly  for  his  skill  in  thieving.  It  is,  therefore,  im- 
possible to  say  in  each  and  every  case  that  a spirit  or  fairy 
has  always  been  what  it  is  to-day.  But,  on  the  other  hand, 
since  in  the  earliest  times  the  spirits  of  the  dead  are  distin- 
guished from  the  Bhuts,  and  the  latter  are  looked  upon  through 
the  whole  course  of  literature  as  unembodied  spirits  or  sprites 

and  nothing  more,  exactly  as  they  are  regarded  to-day,  it  is 

7 


98 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


clearly  not  correct  to  identify  Bhuts,  on  the  strength  of  an 
a priori  argument,  with  ghosts  or  with  natural  phenomena. 
So  the  Vedas  know  the  “ Elves,”  etymologically  identical  with 
Ribhus,  the  Vedic  name  of  these  clever  artisan  spirits,  and 
there  is  not  the  slightest  reason  to  identify  them  with  natural 
phenomena,  as  has  often  been  done.  They  and  their  class  are 
transcendental,  as  are  the  fairies  of  our  nurseries. 

Another  sort  of  imaginative  deities  includes  the  “ wonder- 
cow,”  “wonder-bird,”  and  “wonder-tree”  of  post-Vedic  my- 
thology. These,  too,  are  still  believed  in,  though  they  are  not 
invoked  and  worshipped  as  they  once  were.  No  particular  cow 
is  thus  glorified.  The  fancy  plays  around  the  concrete  “ giver 
of  good  things,”  as  the  cow  is  called,  till  it  evolves  an  arche- 
typical divine  cow,  which  gives  everything.  The  Vedic  gods 
of  Love  and  Anger,  with  all  the  later  host  of  these  divinities, 
are  abstractions  of  emotions,  just  as  the  wonder-cow  is  the 
abstraction  of  a concrete  cow.  These  gods,  which  are  real  and 
worshipped,  are  surely  not  referable  to  ghosts  or  personified 
natural  phenomena.  Again,  from  these  to  the  intellectual  or 
logical  gods  there  is  but  a step.  The  Vedic  period  knows  the 
divine,  primordial  giant,  whose  members  are  the  universe,  a 
crude  pantheism  found  in  several  other  parts  of  the  world. 
Worked  upon  by  the  priestly  imagination,  this  god  becomes  in 
the  Atharva  Veda  the  primordial  Support,  Skambha,  who  is 
dissected  in  a philosophically  grotesque  analysis  of  the  uni- 
verse. To  the  close  of  this  Vedic  age  were  familiar  Vac 
(Latin  vox),  a philosophical  deity;  Brihaspati,  the  later  Brah- 
man, “ lord  of  prayer,”  a religious  deity,  whom  the  “ goddess 
Gaj'-atri”  (that  is  to  say,  the  personification  of  a particular 
prayer)  and  a large  number  of  similar  deities  follow.  The 
god  of  death,  again,  must  have  his  secretary,  Citragupta,  who 
is  invented  at  a later  date.  There  must  be  a special  god  of 
battle,  suited  to  the  posh  Vedic  age,  and  Skanda  is  imagined 
(whom,  to  be  sure,  some  have  wished  to  identify  with  “ Alek- 
sander  ”).  We  cannot  go  back  to  any  literary  period  where  we 
do  not  find  alongside  of  the  worship  of  sky-gods,  ghosts,  and 
demons,  the  worship  of  some  abstract  powers.  Even  Infinity, 


A STUDY  OF  GODS. 


99 


Mercy,  Wisdom  (as  an  active,  instructing  goddess),  and  other 
such  deities  appear  during  the  Vedic  age,  though  probably 
most  of  these  are  not  of  the  earliest  period.  This  evidence 
of  the  past  is  particularly  valuable  as  showing  that  primitive 
superstition  of  the  grossest  kind  may  be  contemporary  with 
the  creation  of  abstract  divinities.  Conversely,  as  we  see  in 
the  modern  life  of  the  people,  the  most  philosophical  creeds 
may  exist  alongside  of  the  most  primitive  superstition.  Only 
in  the  latter  case  the  mixed  national  faiths  have  amalgamated 
Dravidian  and  Mohammedan  elements  with  Aryan,  while  in 
the  Rig  Veda  there  is,  as  yet,  no  evidence  of  external  influence. 

It  is  perhaps  owing  to  outside  influence  that  Brahmanism 
in  contradistinction  to  Vedism  has  so  much  demonolatry  in 
its  composition,  but  even  here  the  effect  of  other  beliefs  on 
Aryan  creeds  seems  to  have  been  exaggerated.  For  the 
Vedic  religion  contains  in  itself  the  prototype  of  all  the  later 
demonolatry. 

An  important  division  of  devils,  for  instance,  is  that  of  the 
disease-demons  of  modern  times,  many  of  whom  can  be  traced 
back  to  Brahmanism.  But,  if  we  fit  the  beliefs  of  to-day 
into  the  practices  of  antiquity,  we  shall  see  that  this  kind 
of  demon  was  really  included  in  the  host  of  divine  beings  of 
the  Rig  Veda  itself.  A very  interesting  example  of  this  lies 
in  the  case  of  a young  woman  who  is  said  in  the  Rig  Veda 
to  have  been  drawn  through  a round  hole  and  cured  of  dis- 
ease. As  the  hymn  stands,  it  is  merely  a song  in  honor  of 
the  storm-god  Indra,  to  whom  credit  is  given  for  the  cure. 
But  the  method  of  cure  explains  what  is  otherwise  unintelli- 
gible. In  all  ages  in  India,  just  as  to-day,  crawling  through 
a circle  is  one  device  to  escape  the  demon  of  disease,1  for 
every  circle  is  a mystic  and  hence  holy  power.  This  gives 
the  cue  to  the  Vedic  rite.  The  young  woman  was  running 
away  from  the  “ devil  of  disease,”  and  was  cured  by  being 
dragged  through  a round  hole.  We  have,  too,  at  this  period 
a host  of  personified  “ Diseases,”  which  can  be  nothing  but 
the  modern  disease-devils.  In  very  rare  cases  is  a disease 
1 Compare  Crooke,  The  Popular  Religion,  i.  142;  ii.  41. 


100 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


attributed  to  the  action  of  a great  god,  and  only  when,  so  to 
speak,  the  influence  of  the  great  god's  power  is  unavoidable. 
Thus  Varuna,  a god  of  sky  and  water,  possibly  identical  with 
Ouranos,  is  also  worshipped  as  the  god  of  dropsy,  because 
the  disease  is  clearly  a water-disease.  But  in  general  all 
diseases  are  simply  the  outward  manifestation  of  an  evil 
spirit.  Just  as  a bruise  is  the  result  of  a blow,  so  disease  is 
the  sign  that  one  has  been  smitten  by  a devil.  When  the 
disease  itself  is  regarded  as  the  body  of  the  disease-spirit, 
this  class  of  demons  belongs  to  that  of  phenomena.  But 
this  is  rarely  the  case.  The  devil  causes  the  disease,  but  the 
eruption  or  other  sign  is  not  generally  the  incorporate  being 
itself.  Some  exceptions  seem  to  occur  in  the  case  of  prayers 
addressed  directly  to  such  and  such  a phenomenon  of  dis- 
ease, as  in  deprecation  of  the  yellows  as  personified  jaundice. 
But  this  class  of  what  has  been  called  symbolic  gods  is 
merely  the  result  of  the  usual  interchange  of  cause  and 
effect.  “ Depart,  O yellowness,”  is  really  to  the  speaker 
the  equivalent  of  “ Depart,  O yellow-making  evil,”  and  evil 
is  synonymous  with  devil. 

This  group  of  disease-devils  is  by  no  means  homogeneous. 
Not  only  do  the  great  gods,  like  Varuna  in  the  Rig  Veda 
and  ^iva  to-day,  occasionally  inflict  disease,  but  there  are 
also  demons  who  are  responsible  for  disease  and  yet  are 
ghosts.  Thus  there  is  a cholera-devil  who  is  the  ghost  of 
a gentleman  who  died  in  the  seventeenth  century.  On  the 
other  hand,  Putana  in  the  epic  and  £itala  to-day  are  not 
ghosts ; the  latter,  the  goddess  or  she-devil  of  small-pox,  is  a 
pure  abstraction.  In  ancient  Brahmanism  there  may  be  found 
an  army  of  these  “disease-mothers,”  whose  highest  type  is 
dark  Kali,  the  spouse  of  (yiva.  Some  of  these  again  are 
plainly  reduced  in  circumstances,  like  the  Great  Mother  of 
Gujarat,  who  is  now  a disease-devil  and  once,  like  Momba 
Devi  of  Bombay,  was  a tutelary  local  divinity,  perhaps 
Mother  Earth.  But  despite  the  manifoldness  of  their  origin, 
though  some  are  ghosts  and  some  are  decayed  phenomenal 
deities,  there  are  many  which,  like  the  devils  bearing  the  name 


A STUDY  OF  GODS. 


101 


of  the  disease,  can  be  referred  only  to  fancy  and  the  simple 
logic  of  disease  explained  above.  Among  these  there  are 
interesting  types  showing  the  original  condition  of  some  of 
the  great  gods  who  have  been  elevated  from  just  such  a 
beginning  to  a higher  sphere.  One  of  these  present  logical 
prototypes  of  <yiva  is  the  horrible  little  demon  worshipped 
to-day  (as  he  has  been  worshipped  for  three  thousand  years) 
under  the  name  of  Bhairava,  or  in  modern  form  Bhairoba,  a 
caricature  of  £iva,  with  whom  he  has  long  been  identified. 

The  first  grouping  of  this  general  category  of  gods  occurs 
in  the  Vedic  expression  “other  people,”  a general  term  for 
all  the  powers  of  darkness,  who  later  are  supposed  to  be 
under  the  dominion  of  Kubera,  reckoned  a Pluto  and  guar- 
dian of  under-ground  riches.  Long  after  the  first  appearance 
of  this  god  as  a god,  his  name  is  assumed  by  mortal  kings, 
so  that  in  this  category  also  the  historical  process,  as  recorded 
in  literature,  has  been  the  reverse  of  euhemeristic. 

Although  they  are  not  gods,  yet  the  creatures  imagined 
by  the  epic  poets  deserve  a word  here  as  superhuman  (or 
inhuman)  beings,  whose  origin  has  usually  been  held  to  be 
due  to  simple  fancy.  Such  are  the  one-legged  men  and  men 
with  ears  long  enough  to  wrap  about  them.  But  I think 
that  most  of  these  are  due  to  distortion  of  travellers’  tales. 
In  South  India  I chanced  one  day  to  be  in  company  with 
a young  Frenchman  who  knew  nothing  of  Hindu  literature. 
On  seeing  the  earring-extended  ears  of  a peasant  woman 
he  exclaimed,  “ What  ears ! Why,  she  could  use  them  for  a 
shawl ! ” As  to  the  one-legged  men,  Colonel  Holdich,  in  his 
Indian  Borderland,  tells  us  that  in  Kafirstan  the  favorite 
amusement  is  racing  up  and  down  steeps  on  one  leg,  “ some- 
times with  a drop  of  fifteen  feet.”  Such  a tribe  would  easily 
be  described  as  “ one-legged.” 1 

Ghost-Gods.  Reference  has  already  been  made  to  a 
class  of  deities  quite  different  in  origin  from  those  discussed 

1 The  circumstance  that  in  the  epic  some  of  the  foreign  allies  are  the 
“ stone-throwers " may  be  illustrated  by  the  fact,  also  recorded  by  Colonel 
Holdich,  op.  cit.,  that  this  is  the  Baluch  weapon  par  excellence. 


102 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


above.  These  are  the  ghost-demons  and  ghost-gods.  They 
may  be  divided  into  two  classes,  — deities  that  are  the  ghosts 
of  certain  well-known  people,  and  the  vague  host  of  Fathers 
or  Manes  without  special  name.  In  modern  times  both 
classes  are  worshipped.  In  the  Vedic  period  there  is  some 
doubt  whether  the  first  class  was  recognized  at  all.  But 
there  is  a possibility  of  this  in  the  fact  that  the  Bhumiya, 
or  local  “lord  of  the  field,”  in  modern  times  is  often  the 
ghost  of  a local  hero,  and  that,  in  the  earliest  literature,  wor- 
ship is  given  to  a “lord  of  the  field.”  But  just  as  there  was 
at  a later  time  a “ goddess  of  the  house  ” differentiated  from 
all  ancestral  spirits,  so  here  the  “ lord  of  the  field  ” may 
be  only  the  equivalent  of  the  later  “ lord  of  the  corn,”  an 
abstraction  and  not  a ghost. 

But  in  the  earliest  hymns  the  “ Fathers  ” are  recognized  as 
a distinct  group  of  deities.  Their  position  and  powers  are 
rather  undefined,  but  the  important  fact  stands  out  clearly 
that  they  are  never  confounded  or  merged  with  the  gods  of 
phenomena.  The  spirits  of  the  dead  either  go  to  heaven  and 
sit  with  Yama,  the  “first  of  mortals  who  died,”  in  the  vault 
of  the  sky,  where  they  enjoy  their  new  life  in  his  company 
under  a “beautiful  tree,”  or,  according  to  the  varied  beliefs 
reflected  through  the  Vedic  period,  they  stay  on  earth  in  vari- 
ous housings,  such  as  plants  and  the  bodies  of  birds.  At  a 
later  date  they  become  stars,  or  go  to  the  moon  and  sun. 
They  are  generally  a nameless,  inconspicuous  host,  and  the 
only  one  revered  by  name  at  first  is  Yama,  tbe  mythical  first 
mortal.  Then  some  of  the  great  saints  get  identified  with 
constellations;  but,  generally  speaking,  the  soul  of  a dead 
man  first  becomes  a Preta,  or  unhoused  ghost,  which  on 
being  properly  fed  with  oblations  is  “elevated”  to  the  host 
of  happy  Fathers  in  the  sky.  After  three  generations  it  loses 
its  identity  and  is  named  no  more  at  the  sacrifice,  becoming 
simply  “one  of  the  Fathers.” 

Yama,  whom  the  ingenious  comparative  mythologists  have 
identified  with  both  the  sun  and  the  moon,  is  regarded  as  the 
“ twin,”  or  male  of  the  primitive  pair  from  whom  men  come. 


A STUDY  OF  GODS. 


103 


He  had  a sister  Yami,  with  whom  he  paired,  originally 
identified  with  Night,  though  now  in  popular  tradition  she  is 
the  Jumna  River,  the  waters  of  which  on  account  of  her 
incest  are  still  unholy.  But  Yama  is  a ghost-god  only  in  the 
view  of  the  tradition  that  makes  him,  being  mortal,  a man. 
He  may  be  merely  a poetic  image,  but  if  a natural  phenome- 
non this  same  “ first  to  die  ” would  make  it  most  natural  to 
regard  him  as  the  moon. 

Other  ghosts  revered  as  terrible  are  the  Kabandhas  of  the 
epic,  headless  trunks  of  slain  heroes,  corresponding  to  the 
modern  Dunds.  So,  too,  the  Pigacas  are  a class  of  devils 
which  were  originally  malevolent  ghosts.  India  to-day  is 
full  of  shrines  raised  to  ghosts  of  this  sort.  But  it  is 
not  at  all  necessary  that  malevolence  or  unnatural  power 
should  be  exhibited  to  ensure  divinity.  Not  a few  English- 
men have  been  worsliipped  in  life,  and  should  have  had  shrines 
after  their  death  in  the  estimation  of  the  natives.  Among  the 
Hindus  nothing  is  more  common  than  the  deification  of  a man, 
dead  or  alive.  To  speak  here  only  of  the  former  case,  a few 
years  ago  a poor  man  in  one  of  the  districts  of  northern  India 
fell  asleep  on  the  shrine  of  the  local  deity.  He  woke  to  find 
himself  adorned  with  flowers  and  worshipped.  The  villagers 
persisted  in  accepting  him  as  their  local  god  in  bodily  form. 
Finding  the  position  an  easy  one,  he  remained  an  avatar  till  he 
died,  when  he  became  a true  god  whose  divinity  increased  so 
rapidly  that  he  was  regarded  at  last  as  the  original  god  of  the 
shrine.  In  this  case  a few  successful  cures  established  his  cult 
and  ousted  his  predecessor.  Again,  Hardaur  Lala  was  a worthy 
man  who  lived  in  the  seventeenth  century.  He  is  now  the 
god  of  cholera,  of  whom  mention  has  been  made  above.  Any 
disease-healer  or  Ojha,  that  is,  Teacher,  if  successful  in  life, 
becomes  deified  after  death. 

Less  often  is  found  apotheosis  of  literary  worthies ; but 
Vyasa,  the  epic  author,  and  his  rival  Yalmiki,  are  now  gods 
in  some  parts  of  India,  as  are  the  heroes  of  their  poems,  who 
have  many  shrines  and  thousands  of  worshippers.  Finally,  the 
ghosts  of  “good”  women,  Satis,  are  regarded  as  “ newdivini- 


104 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


ties,”  to  cite  the  expression  of  the  Abbe  Dubois,  who  at  the 
end  of  the  eighteenth  century  saw  some  of  these  unhappy  gocls 
in  the  making.1 

Man-Gods.  Although  men  as  divinities  should  logically 
precede  ghosts,  yet  it  is  significant  of  the  healthy  Aryan  tone 
reflected  in  the  Rig  Veda  that,  while  ghost-gods  are  acknowl- 
edged, no  worship  is  paid  to  a living  man,  though  it  is  true 
that  one  of  the  poet-priests  asserts  his  own  divinity,  but  only 
in  a hymn  that  is  particularly  marked  by  late  features.  Never- 
theless, the  germ  of  this  disease  was  already  at  work,  and 
shortly  after  the  first  Vedic  period  man-gods  were  as  much 
feared  as  sky-gods.  The  first  to  win  the  power  was  the  one 
who  still  keeps  it,  the  Ojha  or  wizard.  He  was  the  Purohita, 
or  domestic  chaplain,  of  a king,  and  his  incantations  have  been 
handed  down  in  the  Atharva  or  Fire-cult  (magic)  Veda.  In  the 
earliest  period,  indeed,  any  one  might  be  a wizard ; but  long 
before  the  Vedic  period  ended  the  prerogative  was  safe  in  the 
hands  of  the  priestly  caste.  In  the  Rig  Veda  itself  the  real 
“ arbiter  of  battle v is  said  to  be  not  the  warrior  king,  nor 
even  the  great  gods,  but  the  priest  who  controls  the  armies 
through  his  magic  rites.  In  the  great  Indian  epic  the  real 
office  of  the  domestic  chaplain  is  to  “ slay  evil  magic  ” and 
invent  evil  magic  of  his  own. 

But  long  before  the  epic  age,  the  whole  caste  of  priests  had 
gradually  acquired  through  the  superstitious  fears  of  the  kings 
the  same  power  originally  got  by  the  Purohita  (equivalent  to 
coheri).  And  in  fact  the  ordinary  ceremonial  of  the  sacrifice 
was  not  very  different  from  the  witchcraft  of  the  despicable 
Ojha.  Through  this  power  over  the  sacrifice  and  over  the 
gods,  the  priestly  caste  arrogated  divinity  to  themselves,  and 
before  the  Vedic  age  closed  proclaimed  themselves  “gods  upon 
earth,”  a claim  legally  sanctioned  in  the  native  law-books. 
This  pretense  they  have  always  upheld,  and  to-day  all  the  dis- 
gusting service  of  Gosains  and  Gurus,  the  pontiffs  of  modern 

1 Satis  (suttees)  are  women  who  allow  themselves  to  be  burned  to  death 
on  their  husband’s  pyre,  and  are  hence  called  satis,  “ good.”  Dubois  relates 
that  their  divinity  began  when  the  procession  to  the  pyre  was  formed. 


A STUDY  OF  GODS. 


105 


sectarian  bodies,  is  based  on  the  same  notion  that  the  priests 
are  actual  gods.1 

Another  division  of  man-gods  is  that  of  heroes,  spiritual  or 
military.  Occasionally  such  men  are  deified  in  life,  but  gen- 
erally it  is  their  ghosts  that  are  worshipped.  Buddha,  Rama, 
and  Krishna  are  good  examples.  Rama  was  so  clearly  a man 
that  even  in  his  own  epic  he  is  represented  as  not  knowing 
that  he  was  a god  till  he  was  told  of  it.  Both  he  and  Krishna 
were  originally  local  chieftains  of  Northern  India,  though  to- 
day they  are  both  avatars,  that  is,  “ descents  ” (to  earth)  of 
Vishnu,  the  Supreme  Deity.  A quite  modern  instance  of  a 
military  leader  becoming  a god  is  that  of  the  Mahratta  chief- 
tain, yivaji,  whose  disciples  are  to-day,  for  political  purposes, 
urging  his  cult  in  the  Bombay  presidency.  The  common 
people  cannot  quite  decide  whether  he  was  a god  or  not,  as 
they  still  remember  what  a demon  he  was  in  life.  But  his 
devilry  will,  in  the  ordinary  course  of  things,  soon  be  merged 
in  his  divinity.  A shrine  and  offerings  are  enough  to  estab- 
lish a god.2  Even  professed  monotheism,  as  in  the  case  of  the 
Sikhs  and  modern  reformers  of  this  century,  is  not  enough  to 
prevent  the  deification  of  the  high  priest  of  the  order,  withal, 
before  he  dies.  Chunder  Sen  too  was  deified  by  his  followers, 
and  long  before  her  death  the  Queen-empress  to  many  Hindus 
was  a great  divinity.3 

1 The  jus  primcE  noctis  is  assumed  by  some  of  these  pontiffs  on  the  basis  of 
this  claim.  The  bride  is  “ purified  ” by  preliminary  intercourse  with  the 
priest. 

2 This  may  seem  to  be  putting  the  cart  before  the  horse,  but  it  is  not  said 
unadvisedly.  The  Hindu  worships  what  he  does  not  understand,  and  may 
even  take  a Mohammedan  tomb  as  a temple  and  add  his  flowers  (given  to  a 
deity)  to  those  placed  there  in  remembrance  only.  I saw  a Hindu  peasant  do 
this  in  Lahore,  and  had  him  asked  why  he  did  it.  “ They  are  all  great  and 
powerful,  those  in  the  tombs,”  was  his  simple  reply.  Again,  to  start  a new 
god  on  a successful  career,  it  is  necessary  only  to  build  a shrine,  and  say,  “ Here 
is  a god.”  The  worshippers  collect  at  once.  All  they  need  is  a sign,  and  the 
new  shrine  signifies  a god. 

3 It  must  be  remembered  that  the  ascription  of  godhead  to  a man  is  in 
India  not  quite  what  it  would  be  among  people  not  believing  in  metempsy- 
chosis on  the  one  hand,  and  pantheism  on  the  other.  As  any  very  good  man 
may  become  a god  at  death,  the  transition  in  life  is  only  a prolepsis.  And  the 


106 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


The  Abb6  Dubois,  who  spent  bis  life  in  India  and  knew  the 
people  thoroughly,  reports  that  a respectable  Hindu  once  said 
to  him : “ My  god  is  the  headman  among  my  field-laborers ; 
for  as  they  work  under  bis  orders,  he  can,  by  using  bis  influ- 
ence, do  me  much  good  or  evil.”  1 Here,  applied  to  man,  is 
the  same  cause  of  deification,  which,  as  we  have  seen,  under- 
lies the  worship  of  phenomena  that  are  lifeless.  On  this  point 
also  the  learned  Abb6  in  the  same  passage  says  in  regard  to 
idols  that  “ idolatry  in  India  has  for  the  object  of  its  worship 
the  material  substance  itself.  It  is  to  everything  which  they 
understand  to  be  useful  or  hurtful  that  the  Hindus  pay  direct 
worship.”  He  adds  that  there  is  a more  refined  idolatry,  where 
the  divinity  in  the  idol,  not  the  idol  itself,  is  worshipped,  “ but 
that  which  has  for  its  object  the  actual  substance  itself  is  more 
common.”  2 

In  the  early  literature,  both  the  father  and  the  mother  are 
declared  to  be  divinities  to  their  children,  but  this  is  little  more 
than  a phrase,  expressing  the  absolute  control  which  the 
parents  had  the  right  of  exercising.  The  marital  god,  how- 
ever, is  a real  divinity,  though  he  has  only  one  worshipper,  for 
the  wife  must  renounce  all  other  gods  if  they  oppose  the  hus- 
band-god. A favorite  tale  in  Southern  India  tells  how  the 
wife  flouted  the  Guru,  or  priest-god,  and  disobeyed  all  the 
other  gods  in  the  pantheon,  because  the  priests  told  her  that 
the  great  gods  had  commanded  her  to  do  what  her  husband 
had  forbidden.  She  died  in  the  odor  of  great  sanctity,  for 
“ a wife’s  god  is  her  husband,”  as  he  has  been,  both  in 
proverb  and  in  Hindu  law,  for  the  past  twenty-five  hun- 
dred jrears.  Absolutely  to  obey  and  “ worship  her  husband 
as  her  only  god  ” is  the  wife’s  one  religious  duty,  though 
she  may  invoke  other  deities  if  not  forbidden  by  her  husband- 
god. 

fine  old  saint  of  Benares  (since  dead)  answered,  when  I asked  him  in  1897,  in 
the  course  of  a friendly  conversation,  how  he  could  adore  his  own  image,  “ As 
I worship  you  too,  both  being  portions  of  God.”  But,  though  deified,  I was 
not  a god. 

1 Dubois,  Manners  and  Customs,  ii.  p.  556. 

2 Loc.  cit. 


A STUDY  OF  GODS. 


107 


Animal-Gods.  Whether  animals,  which  make  a new  cate- 
gory of  gods,  were  worshipped  as  such  by  the  Vedic  Aryans  is 
extremely  doubtful.1  With  the  exception  of  the  lion,  which 
is  not  referred  to  as  divine,  the  animals  now  most  dreaded  were 
not  then  known.  The  tiger  and  perhaps  the  elephant  are  not 
mentioned ; the  crocodile  is  not  alluded  to  till  the  second 
period  of  Vedic  literature.  The  wolf  and  the  wild  hog  were 
not  then  deified.  The  divine  cow  of  the  later  age  is  at  this 
time,  and  even  for  centuries  thereafter,  regarded  as  better  to 
eat  than  to  revere.2  The  only  animals,  indeed,  that  appear  in 
this  period  to  be  hedged  about  with  any  sort  of  divinity  are 
snakes  and  monkeys.  But  it  is  centuries  after  this  when  we 
find  any  trace  of  the  mediaeval  and  modern  worship  of  snakes 
as  protective  deities  and  totems.  The  difference  is  very  well 
marked  in  Brahmanic  worship,  where  sacrifices  and  witchcraft 
against  snakes  come  before  the  recognition  of  deified  snakes. 
Of  the  latter,  the  Nagas  are  not  snakes,  but  idealized  serpents 
and  dragons.  One  of  them  upholds  the  world.  They  have 
human  faces,  and  are  no  more  real  serpents  than  Centaurs  are 
real  horses.  It  is  highly  probable  that  Naga  worship  was  in- 
troduced into  Aryan  theogony  from  the  aboriginal  tribes,  as 
the  latter  revere  serpents  both  as  gods  and  totems.  At  the 
present  day  the  native  peasant  worships  snakes  both  as  dire 
fiends  and  as  ancestral  ghosts.  The  latter  are  the  house- 
snakes,  which  are  propitiated  and  looked  upon  in  somewhat 
the  double  light  with  which  iEneas  views  the  serpent  on  his 
altar : — 

Incertus  geniumne  loci  famulumne  parentis 

Esse  putet. 

1 That  they  were  sometimes  worshipped  as  spirits  of  the  dead  is  probable. 
See  below. 

2 Down  almost  to  the  time  of  our  era  beef -eating  (at  sacrifices)  was  com- 
mon, as  is  shown  by  passages  in  the  national  epic.  It  was  even  said  by  some 
of  the  ancients  (though  I doubt  it)  that  goghna  meant  guest  (it  really  means 
“cow-killer  ”)  because  the  “fatted  calf”  was  killed  in  his  honor.  To-day  no 
sacrilege  is  so  heinous  as  the  “ murder  ” of  a cow.  The  fact  that  beef  was 
eaten  in  the  epic  period  has  sometimes  been  noticed  without  the  all- 
important  addition  that  the  cows  killed  to  be  eaten  were  at  this  time  killed 
only  for  sacrifice. 


108 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


Other  animals  also  are  credited  with  being  ghosts  or  wiz- 
ards in  beastly  form.  Totemism  has  been  made  responsible 
for  many  divinities  of  this  sort,  but  reflection  brings  prudence 
here  also.  It  is  now  quite  generally  admitted  that,  as  Mr. 
Crane  and  Mr.  Bull  do  not  imply  a totemistic  stage,  so  many 
clans  have  descended  from  men  who  bore  nicknames  of 
beasts.  An  early  instance  is  the  Tortoise  clan  of  the  Yedic 
age.  Unless  in  fact  the  descendants  are  known  to  treat  an 
animal  as  a totem,  that  is,  refuse  to  eat  it,  totemism  is  not  even 
probable.  In  many  cases,  even  when  the  animal  of  the  clan 
or  family  is  regarded  as  sacred,  it  may  be  only  a subsequent 
enlargement  of  reverence,  due  perhaps  to  a belief  that  the 
nickname  implied  a real  descent.  This  is  especially  the  case 
when  a non-totemistic  people  is  brought  into  close  connection 
with  totem-worshipping  tribes.  Nothing  is  more  common 
to-day  in  India  than  to  give  a child  the  nickname  of  an 
animal.  Such  a child  grows  up  as  Owl  or  Bear  and  founds  a 
family,  which,  if  the  founder  becomes  distinguished,  vaunts 
itself  as  children  of  the  Owl  or  Bear.  In  a totemistic  envi- 
ronment few  generations  are  required  to  make  the  descendants 
believe  that  the  owl  or  bear  is  their  true  ancestor.  The  dis- 
tinction between  a totem  and  a fetish  must  here  be  kept  in 
mind.  A totem  is  a sacred  class-symbol  or  a class-god;  a 
fetish  is  an  individual,  isolated  symbol  of  divinity,  or  an  indi- 
vidual god.  This  important  difference  is  often  overlooked. 
Even  such  a careful  student  as  Crooke  defines  the  Devak,  or 
marriage-god  of  the  Brahmanized  wild  tribes,  as  a totem  in 
one  place  and  as  a fetish  in  another.1 

But  there  are  many  animals  which  are  gods  in  themselves 
to  the  later  age  of  Brahmanism.  The  cow,  elephant,  tiger, 
monkey,  eagle,  flamingo,  crocodile,  etc.,  are  divine,  but  they 
have  no  trace  of  totemism  in  their  composition.  Only  in  a 
few  cases  has  there  been  evolved  out  of  these  divine  animals 
an  abstract  class  deity,  such  as  Hanumat,  the  monkey-god, 
Bagh  Deo,  the  tiger-god,  or  Ganega,  the  elephant-god.  The 

1 Crooke,  The  Popular  Religion  and  Folk-Lore  of  Northern  India,  ii.  pp. 
155,  184. 


A STUDY  OF  GODS. 


109 


boar  was  a tribal  god  in  Rajputana  not  long  ago ; but,  though 
sacred  in  many  parts  of  the  country,  he  is  not  generally  re- 
garded as  a god.  Ordinarily  each  divine  animal  is  divine 
per  se,  on  account  of  his  wisdom,  strength,  or  weirdness,  as  in 
the  case  of  the  elephant,  tiger,  and  monkey.  But  some  are 
divine  merely  because  they  are  favorites  of  the  great  gods,  as 
in  the  case  of  the  peacock  and  the  rat ; though  it  may  be  that 
some  have  become  favorites  because  they  were  originally 
totems  of  the  wild  tribes,  and  had  to  be  received  with  respect 
by  the  Aryans. 

When  a fetish  is  made  of  part  of  an  animal  there  is  a trans- 
fer from  one  class  of  gods  to  another.  The  tiger  is  the  em- 
bodiment of  strong  vitality  and  is  revered  as  such : his  claw, 
when  he  is  dead,  is  also  a mighty  talismanic  god.  In  the 
latter  case  the  influence  of  the  divinity  is  still  felt  in  dead 
phenomena  supposed  to  have  volition,  and  the  tiger-claw  is 
nothing  but  a phenomenon-god  of  inanimate  matter,  revered 
just  as  anything  is  revered  which  has  been  intimately  asso- 
ciated with  divinity.  The  finger-nail  of  a saint  is  the 
European  parallel,  only  in  India  the  divine  power  has  a will 
of  its  own,  even  in  the  paring. 

Occasionally  an  animal-god  is  made  by  a fiat.  Thus  in  the 
museum  of  Bangalore  I found  a stone  with  a long  inscription, 
stating  that  the  king’s  dog  had  distinguished  himself  and 
been  killed  in  a fight,  and  was  thereafter  to  be  revered  and 
worshipped  as  a god.  A priest  and  a temple  were  appointed 
and  the  new  divinity  was  to  be  worshipped  daily  by  the 
priest,  who  was  to  have  all  the  perquisites  of  the  shrine  so 
long  as  he  kept  up  the  cult.  So,  too,  a Bengal  tribe,  as 
Crooke  relates,  has  within  recent  years  adopted  the  dog  as  its 
god,  because  it  was  “ useful  when  alive  and  not  very  good  to 
eat  when  dead,”  and  the  tribe  “ wished  to  have  a tribal  god.” 

The  usual  attitude  of  the  Hindu  peasant  toward  animals  is 
that  of  kindly  brotherhood.  He  recognizes  no  such  barrier 
between  beast  and  man  as  that  created  by  the  intrusion  of  a 
peculiar  soul  into  human  anatomy.  To  him  beasts  and  men 
in  this  regard  are  on  a par.  Moreover,  a beast  may  become  a 


110 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


man  after  death,  as  a man  may  become  a beast,  since  onty  the 
abnormally  virtuous  escape  a reincarnation  in  animal  form. 
It  is,  therefore,  not  at  all  strange  that  the  Hindu  should  look 
upon  certain  animals  as  possessed  by  the  souls  of  his  ances- 
tors and  friends.  In  the  earliest  Vedic  period,  as  has  been 
shown,  human  souls  were  supposed  to  find  refuge  in  plants 
and  animals,  and  this  belief  has  continued  through  all  ages. 
Animals  of  extraordinary  power  are  often  regarded  as  re- 
embodied men,  or  as  animated  by  a god’s  vitality  and  super- 
human intelligence.  Thus  in  certain  cases  an  individual 
animal  may  be  Vishnu  himself,  or  a class  may  be  literally 
deified  through  favor  of  this  god.  But  in  other  cases  the 
simplest  explanation  is  that  the  class  possessing  unusual  in- 
telligence, power,  or  utility,  is  all  divine  in  itself.  The  same 
principle  is  here  at  work  as  in  the  deification  of  any  powerful 
thing.  The  difference,  however,  is  clear.  In  the  case  of  the 
razor  which  the  barber  worships,  the  scissors  which  the  tailor 
worships,  it  is  not  a spirit  in  the  steel  but  the  steel  itself 
which  is  divine.  A thing  inanimate,  senseless  in  itself, 
which  yet  can  work  good  and  ill,  must  be  a god.  But  an 
animal  is  patently  alive  just  as  a man  is  alive,  and  his  body 
is  divine  only  as  being  in  contact  with  a divine  spirit.  The 
difference  comes  out  clearly  in  the  treatment  of  these  divin- 
ities when  destroyed.  A dead  tiger  may  still  prowl  about  as 
a fiend,  and  his  claw  still  reflects  divinity.  But  no  one  pays 
attention  to  a broken  razor.  So  a triangle  and  a circle  are 
not  only  divine,  but,  incredible  as  it  may  seem,  they  are  to 
the  Hindu,  of  course  only  to  the  uneducated,  real  divinities, 
to  be  worshipped  as  well  as  feared.  But  when  the  figure  is 
broken  there  is  no  more  divinity  in  its  fragments. 

As  there  are  class  deities,  the  abstractions  of  beasts,  in  the 
animal  world,  so  there  are  purely  mythical  animals,  such  as 
the  griffin,  Garuda-bird,  and  the  four  elephants  that  uphold 
the  world.  These  are,  of  course,  neither  ghosts  nor  phe- 
nomena nor  animals ; but,  being  derived  from  the  last  two, 
they  are  gods  of  the  category  of  fancy,  between  whom  and 
demons  or  sprites  there  is  no  appreciable  difference. 


A STUDY  OF  GODS. 


Ill 


At  the  present  time,  though  the  doctrine  of  pantheism  is 
formally  acknowledged,  the  native  villager  never  thinks  of 
his  different  gods  as  being  other  than  separate  entities.  The 
All-god  was  by  no  means  the  last  divinity  to  be  created.1  In 
each  category  that  has  been  named  new  gods  are  even  now 
constantly  arising.  India  is  in  fact  a kaleidoscope  of  deities ; 
a turn  of  the  hand  makes  ever  new  combinations  out  of  the 
same  elements.  These  elements,  as  they  have  been  re- 
viewed,2 are  quite  distinct.  Though  we  may  admit  that 
one  god  may  change  and  pass  into  a class  different  to  that 
in  which  he  originated,  yet  it  cannot  be  denied  that  there 
exist  gods  of  essentially  different  origin,  — gods  of  phenom- 
ena, gods  of  pure  fancy,  gods  of  ghosts,  gods  of  animals.  If 
one  chooses,  one  may  say  that  gods  of  ghosts  are  gods  of 
fancy,  but,  so  long  as  one  believes  in  a soul,  it  is  well  to 
keep  them  separate,  and  in  any  case  the  historical  difference 
is  plain.  In  the  case  of  gods  of  fancy,  man  creates  a god 
without  reference  to  human  agency ; in  the  case  of  ghosts, 
one  simply  assumes  that  men  continue  to  live  after  death 
and  act  as  in  life. 

These  ghost-gods,  animal-gods,  man-gods,  emotion-gods,3 
sky-gods,  tree-gods,  disease-gods,  may  all  be  grouped  in  sub- 
divisions liable  to  be  adjusted  more  nicely,  but  there  remains 
intact  the  fundamental  distinction  between  Dyaus,  the  sky- 

1 The  (philosophic)  nameless  All-god  was  invented  about  the  fifth  century 
b.  c.  About  the  time  of  the  Christian  era  the  worship  of  the  orthodox  chief 
god,  Brahman,  was  amalgamated  with  that  of  the  two  rival  sects  of  Vishnu 
and  <?iva,  whence  arose  the  conception  of  the  triune  god  Brahman-Vishnu- 
<Jiva,  Creator-Preserver-Destroyer,  as  one. 

2 Though  this  sketch  is  necessarily  brief,  I believe  that  I have  included  in 
it  every  class  of  divinity  known  in  India;  not,  of  course,  every  individual 
deity,  for,  as  the  Hindus  say,  there  are  333,000,003  gods,  and  only  categories 
have  been  described. 

8 The  shameful  erotic  rites  of  modern  India  are  held  in  honor  of  Passion, 
represented  mystically  as  a (Jakti,  or  “ female  side  ” of  the  All-god.  Such  an- 
drogynous deities  are  as  old  as  the  Vedas  at  least,  though  the  “ left-hand  ” cult, 
as  it  is  called,  cannot  be  traced  back  much  farther  than  two  thousand  years. 
Worship  of  the  mysterious  lies  at  the  root  of  it,  and  obvious  causes  have 
tended,  as  in  Greece,  to  make  the  worship  of  Passion  more  popular  than  that 
of  Greed  or  other  abstractions. 


112 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


god,  and  the  late  Mr.  Hardaur  Lala,  the  cholera-god,  a 
divinity  as  well  as  a ghost ; between  god  “ East-wind  ” and 
Bagh  Deo,  the  tiger-god.  This  same  distinction  holds  good 
not  only  among  Aryans  of  the  present  day,  but  also  among 
the  Aryans  of  the  remotest  past,  and  among  the  un-Aryan 
wild  tribes.  It  may  be  added  that  it  obtained  also  among 
the  American  Indians,  who,  when  first  known,  worshipped, 
as  separate  gods,  phenomena,  animals,  spirits,  and  ghosts. 
It  appears,  therefore,  to  be  an  unsupported  hypothesis  that 
all  gods  have  their  origin  in  personified  phenomena.  But 
equally  inadequate  seems  the  hypothesis  that  all  gods  origi- 
nated in  ghosts  or  gnomes.  Go  as  far  abroad  as  we  will  and 
as  far  back  as  we  can,  we  still  find  that,  in  any  one  human 
group,  disease-gods,  gnomes,  ghost-gods,  and  gods  of  per- 
sonified natural  phenomena  are  independent  creations,  syn- 
chronous yet  distinct.  In  each  category  the  gods  change  as 
individuals,  but  the  type  remains ; and  it  seems  probable 
that  the  main  categories  have  existed  together,  side  by  side, 
since  man  first  began  to  worship. 

There  is,  however,  one  limitation  to  this  in  the  case  of 
the  gods  of  any  one  people,  the  economic  conditions  of  the 
people  themselves.  For  even  the  gods  are  subject  to  envi- 
ronment. The  application  of  this  limitation  must  remain 
for  specialists  to  make  in  their  several  departments,  and  I 
will  here  merely  point  out  one  leading  thought  which,  as  it 
seems  to  me  to  solve  the  riddle  of  the  quasi-monotheism  of 
the  Rig  Veda,  may  prove  serviceable  elsewhere  ; namely,  the 
influence  of  utility  on  the  theopoetic  tendency  as  shown  in 
settled  and  unsettled  communities,  respectively. 

There  hung  for  many  years  in  the  Boston  State-house, 
and  perhaps  it  hangs  there  still,  a monster  codfish,  a 
token  of  the  regard  felt  by  the  legislators  for  the  source 
of  the  chief  local  industry.  It  was  placed  there  with  respect, 
one  might  almost  sa}'-  with  devotion,  and  it  is  not  too 
much  to  hazard  that,  had  our  Puritan  forefathers  been  less 
advanced  theologically,  they  would  have  considered  this 


A STUDY  OF  GODS. 


113 


effigy,  or  at  least  its  original,  to  be  not  only  regardable  but 
worshipful. 

This  State-house  cod  is  then  a symbol  of  more  than  it  was 
carved  to  figure.  It  is,  in  fact,  emblematic  of  that  utilita- 
rianism which  often  underlies  the  adoration  both  of  the 
benevolent  and  malevolent.  This,  of  course,  is  by  no  means 
the  only  god-creative  principle,  but  it  is  an  important  one 
and  one  generally  recognized  — recognized  even  as  early  as 
the  Mahabharata  in  the  words  : “ Men  worship  <yiva  the  de- 
stroyer because  they  fear  him,  Vishnu  the  preserver,  because 
they  hope  from  him,  but  who  worships  Brahman  the  creator  ? 
His  work  is  done.”  Not  a mere  phrase,  for  in  India  to-day 
there  are  thousands  of  temples  to  fflva  and  Vishnu,  but  only 
two  to  Brahman. 

To  linger,  however,  upon  this  principle  of  utilitarianism 
is  not  my  purpose.  If  we  glance  at  the  rich  collection  of 
divinities  in  a settled  tribe  or  nation,  such  as  those  of  Greece 
or  India,  we  shall  see  that  in  any  given  locality  the  greatest 
usefulness  and  potency  is  ascribed  to  the  local  god.  In  a 
low  state  of  savagery  or  barbarism  local  gods  are  universally 
the  most  important,  and  even  in  a high  state  of  civilization 
they  still  form  the  undercurrent  of  popular  divinity.  Again, 
a great  city  makes  great  its  local  deity  even  at  the  cost  of 
some  anterior  great  deity,  originally  worshipped  by  city  and 
country  alike.  But  a villager,  too,  worships  at  his  village 
shrine  alone,  and  his  real  god  is  the  god  of  that  shrine. 
When  the  village  is  influenced  by  a wider  theosophy  the 
temple  may  belong  to  some  universal  god,  as  is  to-day  the 
case  with  that  of  ^iva,  but  such  a shrine  does  not  faithfully 
represent  the  loftier  conception  to  the  lowly  villager.  He 
cannot  see  beyond  his  ken,  and  so  he  is  continually  reducing 
the  great  god  to  the  size  of  his  own  small  conception.  More- 
over, although  a great  god  may  be  duly  represented  thus,  if 
there  is  at  the  same  time  another  shrine  of  a local  deity,  that 
local  god  will  be  or  become  paramount.  Even  more  must 
this  magnitude  of  the  little  have  been  operative  before  the 
higher  conception  become  possible. 

8 


114 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


The  environment  which  I have  tacitly  assumed  is  that  of  a 
settled  people.  Now  let  us  change  the  economic  conditions 
and  ask  ourselves  what  will,  and  must,  have  been  the  gods 
which  obtained  whenever  a primitive  people  became  migra- 
tory. It  is  evident  that  a migratory  people  can  have  no 
constant  local  gods.  There  is  no  perpetually  familiar  moun- 
tain or  stream  whose  deity  they  dread.  They  may  worship 
the  sun,  but  they  cannot  worship  him  in  a local  form ; they 
may  worship  the  souls  of  the  departed,  but  they  cannot  pay 
especial  reverence  to  the  man-god  of  one  shrine. 

What,  then,  are  the  gods  that  a wandering  people  can 
worship  throughout  their  whole  migratory  state?  Simply 
those  gods  which  they  have  always  with  them.  And  what 
are  these  ? Horace  says  ccelum  non  animum,  but  if  we  should 
interpret  the  ccelum  very  literally,  the  poet’s  Greek  original 
were  nearer  the  truth,  tottov  ov  rpoiro v;  man  changes  his 
abode,  his  mind  remains  the  same,  and  the  sky-god  is  not 
changed.  The  sky-god,  not  local  but  always  with  men, 
they  will  continue  to  worship  wherever  they  go.  This  is  not 
true  of  earth,  for  earth  is  not  regarded  by  primitive  people  as 
one  and  the  same,  since  a different  locality  implies  a different 
divinity ; there  is  a local  mountain  which  is  a separate  god, 
etc. 

Fire,  on  the  other  hand,  though  it  often  goes  out,  still 
remains  the  same  magic  fire,  “ the  ever  new  god,”  as  the 
Vedic  poets  call  it;  and  it  will  continue  to  receive  its  antique 
worship,  especially  when,  as  may  have  been  the  case  with  the 
forefathers  of  the  Romans,  it  is  guarded  and  not  allowed  to 
become  extinct. 

But  there  is  one  more  class  of  gods,  the  troop  of  spirits 
of  the  dead,  that  remains  with  migrating  people.  When 
people  settle  down  they  particularize  in  exact  proportion  as 
they  localize  the  cult.  This  man’s  spirit,  they  say,  resides 
here  on  the  very  spot  where  he  lived.  Here,  then,  we  wor- 
ship him,  and  he  will  protect  us  here.  The  result  is  the 
innumerable  shrines  which  we  find  raised,  for  example,  in 
India  to-day,  to  the  local  Birs  or  man-gods  of  the  places 


A STUDY  OF  GODS. 


115 


where  these  heroes  used  to  live.  But  so  long  as  the  chil- 
dren’s children  roam  about,  they  cannot  localize  nor  particu- 
larize. Each  family  ghost  soon  becomes  merged  in  one 
shadowy  host  of  ghosts,  travelling  with  the  human  tribe, 
worshipped  by  them  in  general.  Only  now  and  then  the 
spirit  of  some  special  hero  is  worshipped  by  more  than  his 
own  family ; then  he  becomes  a tribal  god. 

Now  all  other  classes  of  gods  are  virtually  enshrined  in 
local  material.  Animal-gods  depend  on  the  environment 
for  their  very  existence.  Totems  are  possible  only  where 
the  worshippers  are  fairly  stationary.  No  one  continues  to 
revere  a tiger  or  an  eagle  who  has  no  idea  what  these  animals 
look  like,  and  no  one  claims  descent,  if  he  can  help  it,  from  a 
non-entity.  Gods  of  the  imagination  — genii,  devils  of  vari- 
ous sorts,  and  nymphs  — lose  their  power  in  losing  their  hab- 
itation. As  the  dryads  perish  with  the  removal  of  their  tree, 
so  when  the  site  is  left,  the  special  devil  or  fairy,  potent  in 
its  local  habitation,  becomes  vague  and  eventually  perishes 
from  the  mind.  The  belief  in  such  beings  may  be  unim- 
paired, but  the  particular  object  of  the  cult  is  variable,  so 
that  no  one  individual  demon,  genius,  or  other  supernatural 
being  can  permanently  receive  worship  from  the  migratory 
people.  The  same  is  true  of  the  disease-gods.  No  one  wor- 
ships the  cholera  or  small-pox,  as  do  millions  in  India  to-day, 
who  is  no  longer  afraid  of  it.  Diseases  change  with  environ- 
ment, and  their  malevolent  gods  are  left  behind  by  travellers. 

Thus  far  I have  considered  the  hypothetical  case  of  any 
migratory  nation.  Before  I take  up  a concrete  instance  let 
me  point  out  one  more  fact.  If  such  a people  are  once  settled 
and  afterwards  wander  for  centuries,  all  traces  of  what  used 
to  be  their  local  gods  will  have  vanished.  They,  too,  will  hold 
as  individual  gods  only  those  divinities  which  they  have  with 
them  always,  sky  and  fire  ; while  they  will  believe  in  troops, 
not  individualized,  of  fairies  and  ancestral  ghosts.  If  they 
wander  in  the  tropics  they  will  doubtless,  even  at  the  start, 
have  in  addition  to  these  the  sun-god,  and  if  they  continue 
to  wander  there  they  may  retain  this  god.  But  if  they  start 


116 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


in  the  north  they  are  more  likely  to  regard  the  sun  as  at  most 
a kindly  deity  or  as  merely  the  eye  of  the  sky-god.  They 
will  not  worship  him  as  a fiery,  omnipotent,  tyrant  god  till 
they  reach  the  proper  environment.  So  a storm-god  may  ac- 
company one  or  more  blanches  of  a dividing  people  while 
they  move  in  a circumscribed  area ; but  just  as  soon  as  one 
branch  settles  down  amid  a different  environment,  this  storm- 
god  will  yield  his  power  and  name  to  some  new  local  product. 
Their  regard  for  the  moon  will  also  be  influenced  by  their  en- 
vironment and  be  affected  by  their  enjoyment  of  the  night  as 
compared  with  the  day,  slight  in  a cold,  great  in  a warm 
clime.  In  general,  then,  sky,  with  perhaps  such  celestial 
phenomena  as  sun,  moon,  and  stars  (but  these  latter  are 
more  dependent  on  circumstances),  and  fire,  and  the  manes 
wrill  be  the  most  important,  as  they  will  be  among  the  most 
venerable  gods  that  a migratory  people  can  remember;  un- 
less, indeed,  they  bear  with  them  some  effigy  or  memorial  of 
another  deity  which  tends  to  perpetuate  artificially  what 
would  otherwise  pass  from  memory. 

Now  let  us  take  in  illustration  a concrete  example.  If 
these  general  statements,  a 'priori  as  they  are,  yet  seem  prob- 
able, what  gods  should  we  expect  to  find  as  the  oldest  among 
the  Indo-Europeans  ? — oldest,  that  is  to  say,  from  the  point 
of  view  which  we  must  perforce  take,  the  view  afforded  by 
linguistic  and  literary  evidence.  This  oldest  evidence  rep- 
resents merely  a phase  of  development,  but  it  appears  to  me 
fully  to  support  the  interpretation  I have  made.  What  god 
is  worshipped  under  the  same  name  by  more  than  two  of  the 
Indo-European  nations?  Only  the  sky-god,  Dyauspitar, 
Zeuspater,  Jupiter.  Under  another  name  the  sky  is  wor- 
shipped as  Varuna,  Ouranos.  Both  in  India  and  in  Greece 
this  god  appears  as  the  most  venerable  of  all  gods  of  phe- 
nomena. But  what  other  gods  are  worshipped  by  several 
of  these  severed  nations?  The  Fathers,  Manes,  pitaras , not 
under  a particular  name,  but  as  a host,  exactly  as  we  should 
have  anticipated.  And  lastly  we  have  the  fire-cult  practised 
in  India,  Persia,  Greece,  and  Italy  as  far  back  as  records  go. 


A STUDY  OF  GODS. 


117 


But  because  the  (later)  twofold  Indo-Iranians  lived  long 
together,  we  find  also  in  India’s  oldest  pantheon,  as  in 
Persia’s,  a soma-haoma  cult  and  a Mitra-Mitlrra  sun-cult  not 
found  among  other  nations.  So  too  we  find  the  same  storm- 
god  in  Slavic  and  Vedic  form,  but  not  elsewhere. 

Here  we  have,  as  I am  convinced,  the  true  explanation  of 
an  apparently  mysterious  fact,  a fact  that  has  led  observers 
astray  and  is  apt  to  do  so  still.  I will  not  recall  to  criticise 
the  older  hypothesis  of  an  original  monotheism  among  the 
Indo-Europeans.  Such  theories  were  of  their  time,  and 
represented  a reasonable  stage  of  scholarly  accomplishment  in 
the  interpretation  of  religious  phenomena.  The  great  Sans- 
krit scholars  of  an  earlier  generation  were  profoundly  im- 
pressed by  the  fact  that  the  sky-god  held  the  highest  and 
apparently  oldest  place;  that  he  was  the  most  venerable 
deity  of  the  Indo-Europeans;  and  that  some  of  the  Vedic 
hymns  addressed  to  him  show  an  almost  monotheistic  con- 
ception, certainly  a much  higher  conception  of  godhead  than 
attaches  to  any  other  god  of  the  Vedic  age.  Hence  they 
naturally  argued  a primeval  monotheism.  And  it  is  true 
that  the  figure  of  the  supreme  Zeus  and  the  majestic  Varuna 
are  such  as  to  suggest  this  consequence. 

These  gods  represent,  however,  as  I have  shown,  not  so 
much  the  most  primitive  belief  as  what  was  oldest  in  the 
migratory  life  of  their  worshippers.  For  all  the  Indo-Euro- 
peans were  migrating  for  centuries;  that  is  to  say,  they 
shifted  from  place  to  place,  leaving  behind  what  was  local, 
carrying  forward  as  great  divinities  only  those  which  were 
really  ubiquitous  and  were  felt  to  be  always  identical. 

The  sky-god  is  physically  lofty,  and  does  not  easily  lend 
himself  to  the  hocus-pocus  of  demonolatry.  If  we  add  to 
this  the  fact  that  to  the  Vedic  Aryans  he  was,  as  has  been 
explained,  the  highest  object  of  their  oldest  remembered 
worship,  we  can  easily  understand  why  his  figure  stands  out 
so  large  in  the  background  of  the  pantheon.  We  can  also 
understand  why  the  figure  fades  and  dwindles  as  the  Aryan 
invaders  exchange  the  tending  of  herds  for  agriculture,  as 


118 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


they  move  more  and  more  slowly  from  Kabul  to  Delhi  (to 
use  modern  names),  and  become  permanent  settlers.  For 
with  the  permanent  home  rise  the  local  gods,  Indra  the  war- 
god,  true  image  of  the  monsoon-fury ; (fiva,  the  combination 
of  a Yedic  storm-god  and  a local  aboriginal  disease-god. 
So  with  all  the  gods  potent  at  a later  date.  Every  one  is 
local,  not  one  is  inherited.  Even  Agni,  the  fire-god,  in- 
wrought  as  he  is  into  every  sacrifice,  and  having  thus  a 
firmer  hold  than  had  most  of  his  peers,  becomes  a mere  godling, 
the  servant  of  the  great  local  gods  who  arise  in  settled  com- 
munities. These  latter  appear  even  in  the  Veda  itself,  the 
first  insignificant  “ god  of  the  field,”  and  such  prototypes  of 
the  Bhairobas  and  Vitthalas  (modem  Vithobas,  to  give  the 
exact  form)  of  to-day,  as  at  Pandharpur  in  the  Deccan. 

The  Veda  thus  presents  us  with  at  least  three  strata  of 
divinities : the  newest  local  gods,  already  potent,  and  des- 
tined in  the  end  to  be  most  powerful ; the  intermediate  gods, 
derived  from  the  last  protracted  local  settlements  and  not 
yet  forgotten,  Soma  and  Trita,  and  perhaps  the  storm-god 
Parjanya  ; and  the  still  older  gods  which  the  Aryans  revered 
even  before  their  separation,  which  alone  they  could  have 
preserved  (as  they  had  no  images)  through  all  changes  of 
time  and  place,  sky-god,  fire,  and  ghosts.  To  these  may  be 
added  the  general  host  of  undistinguished  fairies  and  demons 
that,  though  revered,  were  regarded  as  spiritual  underlings 
who  never  came  into  competition  of  worship  with  the  great 
gods.  The  venerable  position,  then,  of  the  sky-god  depends 
on  the  economic  position  of  the  people  who  worshipped  him 
as  the  one  great  god  they  always  had  with  them.  He  natu- 
rally and  inevitably  superseded,  in  the  grandeur  of  his 
history  as  well  as  in  the  loftiness  of  his  physical  attributes, 
all  the  merely  local  deities  which  the  nation  found  on  its 
route,  adopted,  and  abandoned  again,  as  they  successively 
passed  into,  through,  and  out  of  their  spheres  of  divine  in- 
fluence. It  was  only  when  the  Aryans  remained  perma- 
nently stationary  that  they  could  adopt  a permanent  local 
god.  As  soon  as  they  did  so,  this  local  god,  as  is  always 


A STUDY  OF  GODS. 


119 


the  case,  began  to  gain  ascendency  over  the  sky-god  and  over 
Agni,  and  finally  outstripped  them  both  in  the  race  for  popu- 
larity, only  to  be  in  turn  dethroned  as  the  people  passed 
again  into  a new  environment.  But  in  this  and  in  all  subse- 
quent  moves,  the  old  gods  were  no  longer  obnoxious  to  the 
chances  of  fickle  piety,  for  literature  now  had  them  com- 
paratively safe.  Even  with  this  safeguard,  however,  Yaruna 
becomes  before  very  long  a mere  god  of  waters,  and  Dyaus  is 
degraded. 

On  one  aspect  of  the  case  I have  scarcely  touched.  To 
become  settled  is  to  be  agricultural.  Now  the  settled  condition 
of  agriculturists  raises  a great  crop  of  local  earthly  divinities. 
The  peoples  of  the  Rig  Veda  are  in  a transition  state,  repre- 
sented now  as  tending  and  raping  flocks,  now  as  reaping 
fields ; at  one  time  as  still  in  transit  across  the  Punjab,  but 
generally  as  permanently  located.  In  this  shifting  of  eco- 
nomic conditions  there  is  reason  to  anticipate  exactly  what 
we  find  at  this  epoch.  The  figures  of  the  ancient  sky-god 
and  fire-god  are  still  held  in  greatest  reverence,  though  al- 
ready decadent  in  popularity.  But  what  is  most  important 
is  that  the  older  gods  are  no  longer  unique  in  being  historical 
gods.  For  the  people  are  at  least  so  thoroughly  settled  that 
they  regard  the  local  gods  also  as  historical.  In  other  words, 
the  latter  have  already  begun  to  become  such  inherited 
divinities  as  Dyaus  and  Agni,  and  in  less  degree  Trita  and 
Soma.  But  at  the  same  time  they  are  local,  the  reflex  of  the 
very  conditions  in  which  the  worshipper  lives,  vivid  person- 
alities, near  and  real.  When  this  happens,  more  important 
than  the  upper  god  becomes  the  god  that  holds  life  and  death 
in  his  hands  as  the  monsoon  comes  or,  later,  as  the  season  of 
disease  begins  to  slay.  The  god  that  answers  to  the  environ- 
ment, the  local  god,  first  Indra,  then  (jJiva,  becomes  most 
important.  And  as  Civa  rises,  the  sky-god  falls,  for  the 
Aryans  never  again  migrated  beyond  the  reach  of  the  local 
conditions  into  which  they  had  now  entered,  descending  as 
they  did  from  healthy  uplands  to  a land  of  monsoon  and 
fever. 


CHRIST  IN  INDIA. 


It  must  often  have  caused  surprise  in  the  mind  of  the  candid 
student  of  religious  history  to  note  with  how  great  regularity 
they  that  regard  Christianity  as  better  than  Buddhism  regard 
it  also  as  quite  uninfluenced  by  Buddhism,  while  they  who 
believe  that  the  nobler  religion  of  the  two  is  Buddhism,  are 
they  who  believe  also  that  Christianity  is  but  a copy  of  Bud- 
dhism. That  so  marked  a difference  between  the  results 
obtained  by  the  two  parties  of  investigators  is  caused  by  a 
needless  confusion  of  ethical  and  historical  factors  may  per- 
haps be  suspected.  But  there  seems  to  be  no  reason  why, 
in  considering  a question  purely  historical,  other  elements 
should  be  allowed  to  interfere  with  the  full  exercise  of  the 
critical  powers.  We  may,  or  rather  we  must,  if  as  histo- 
rians we  seek  a definitive  answer  to  the  historical  problem, 
which  in  itself  is  quite  complex  enough  to  require  undivided 
attention,  exclude  all  other  aspects  (such  as  the  relative 
beauty  of  the  two  religions  and  the  human  or  divine  origin 
of  one  or  the  other),  as  introducing  subsidiary  questions.  To 
prove  that  Buddha’s  ideal  was  higher  than  Christ’s  adds  no 
weight  to  the  contention  that  the  latter  was  a copy  of  the 
former ; nor  does  the  argument  that  Christ  was  divine  prove 
that  features  of  his  religion  and  of  Christian  legend  were  not 
borrowed  from  Buddhism. 

But  a second  surprise  awaits  the  historical  student  who 
ventures  upon  this  field.  At  the  time  of  Christ  there  were, 
among  others,  two  great  religions  in  India,  Buddhism  and 
Krishnaism.  Now  while  one  set  of  critics  maintain  that 
Christianitv  is  borrowed  from  Buddhism  and  ignore  Krish- 
naism  altogether,  another  set  claim  that  Krishnaism  was  the 


CHRIST  IN  INDIA. 


121 


model,  and  that  the  Gospels  are  based  on  the  teachings  of 
this  form  of  Hinduism  rather  than  on  those  of  Buddhism. 

This  division  of  the  putative  sources  of  Christianity  leads 
further  to  the  discovery  that,  whereas  the  life-events  and  mir- 
acles of  Christ  are  supposed  to  be  copied  from  those  of  Bud- 
dha, the  sayings  supposed  to  be  copied  are  in  the  main  those 
of  Krishna ; since  the  records  of  the  events  in  Krishna’s  life, 
though  comparable  with  those  of  Christ,  are  not  looked  upon 
as  antecedent,  and  the  sayings  of  Buddha  comparable  with 
those  of  Christ  are  but  slightly  similar.  As  Krishnaism  is  not 
represented  in  literature  till  a period  subsequent  to  Buddha, 
it  will  be  well  to  discuss  the  double  problem  in  the  chrono- 
logical order  of  its  parts,  the  inter-relation  of  Christianity 
first  with  Buddhism  and  then  with  Krishnaism. 

Of  what  sort,  then,  is  the  evidence  in  the  case  of  the  former 
relation  — direct  or  indirect,  based  on  historical  facts  or  on 
literary  analogy;  again,  how  much  of  it  is  valuable,  how 
much  worthless,  has  it,  in  fact,  been  properly  sifted  ? 

Now  in  answering  these  queries  a not  uncommon  order  of 
procedure  is  to  begin  by  giving  a mass  of  literary  parallels 
and  to  end  with  a statement  of  the  historical  conditions. 
For  example,  the  Buddhistic  parable  of  the  prodigal  son  is 
cited  as  a parallel  to  that  in  the  New  Testament,  and  after- 
wards it  is  stated  that  the  medium  of  communication,  by 
means  of  which  in  general  Buddhistic  parables  were  trans- 
planted to  Syrian  soil,  was  probably  a Buddhistic  gospel  cur- 
rent in  Syria  in  Christ’s  time ; for  in  the  first  century  A.  D. 
there  was  constant  communication  between  India  and  Syria. 

But  it  is  perhaps  more  conducive  to  a clear  understanding 
of  the  problem  if  we  endeavor  first  of  all  to  understand  the 
conditions  under  which  in  general  such  communications  may 
have  taken  place,  and  then  to  apply  our  knowledge  to  the 
special  cases.  The  cogency  of  the  argument  in  the  case  just 
adduced,  for  example,  is  somewhat  affected  by  the  two  facts 
that,  so  far  as  we  know,  there  was  no  such  Buddhistic  gospel 
in  Syria,  and  that  the  Buddhist  parable  cannot  be  traced 
back  of  200-300  A.  D.  It  is,  of  course,  possible  that  there 


122 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


was  such  a gospel,  and  it  is  possible  also  that  a Buddhistic 
story  appearing  in  literature  in  the  third  century  after  our  era 
existed  four  centuries  in  secret  without  being  mentioned  in 
the  voluminous  accounts  of  Buddha’s  life,  and  was  then  trans- 
planted to  Syria  and  published  for  the  first  time  in  a Bud- 
dhistic gospel,  belief  in  the  existence  of  which  depends  wholly 
on  its  being  regarded  as  the  indispensable  means  of  commu- 
nicating this  parable  to  Christ.  But  it  is  advisable  rather 
to  know  first  the  facts  than  thus  to  begin  by  playing  with 
fancies. 

The  historical  facts,  however,  are  not  so  complete  as  could 
be  desired  for  the  solution  of  so  interesting  a problem.  But, 
though  they  too  leave  a large  margin  for  the  play  of  fancy, 
they  are  sufficient  to  answer  one  of  the  most  important  points 
in  the  taking  of  evidence.  There  is  a large  amount  of  early 
literature  concerning  the  Christian  religion,  and  in  it  there 
is  no  indication  that  Christianity  was  regarded  as  reflect- 
ing Buddhism,  even  at  a time  when  Buddha’s  doctrines  were 
certainly  known.  On  the  contrary,  Buddha  was  regarded  as 
such  an  arch-heretic  that  converts  were  required  on  renounc- 
ing Manichaeism  to  anathematize  both  Zoroaster  and  Buddha. 

But  in  this  matter  there  will  be  found  both  undue  depre- 
ciation and  exaggeration  of  historical  data  in  the  evidence 
submitted.  On  the  one  hand  they  are  made  to  prove  less, 
on  the  other  more,  than  may  reasonably  be  extracted  from 
them. 

In  the  third  century  before  Christ,  the  Indian  king  Agoka 
sent  missionaries  to  the  West,  who,  as  he  says,  converted  the 
Greeks,  and  among  those  to  whom  he  sent  was  Ptolemy 
Philadelphus  and  Antiochus  II.,  the  latter  ruling  over  the 
Bactrian  Greeks,  the  former,  who  also  sent  an  embassy  to 
India,  being  king  of  Egypt.  The  Hindus  were  accustomed 
to  give  the  name  of  Greeks  to  the  Bactrian  Greeks,  and  usu- 
ally mentioned  them  as  neighbors  of  the  people  living  in  Kan- 
dahar on  the  Northwest  frontier.1  A9oka  claims,  however, 
that  he  sent  missionaries  not  only  to  Antiochus,  who  reigned 

1 See  on  this  point  the  evidenre  collected  in  my  Great  Epic  of  India,  p.  393  ff. 


CHRIST  IN  INDIA. 


123 


oyer  these  Greeks,  but  also  to  certain  friends  of  Antiochus, 
the  king  of  Epirus,  and  others.  There  is  no  outside  evidence 
that  such  missionaries  ever  arrived,  or,  if  they  did,  that  they 
ever  had  any  influence ; and  scholars  like  M.  Senart,  who 
have  studied  the  subject  most  carefully,  incline  to  the  opinion 
that  Agoka  had  simply  heard  of  these  kings  through  his  friend 
Antiochus  and  had  dispatched  missionaries  to  them,  when  he 
boasted  of  the  conversion  of  the  Western  world  (within  a 
year  after  the  missionaries  were  sent).  On  the  other  hand, 
we  know  that  in  Bactria  there  were  Buddhist  missionaries  as 
early  as  the  second  century  B.  c. 

That  the  West  was  converted  to  Buddhism  or  even  influ- 
enced by  Buddhistic  missionaries  in  the  third  century  before 
our  era,  is  not  probable  in  the  face  of  the  fact  that  such  influ- 
ence is  not  to  be  traced  in  the  literature,  and  that  Buddha’s 
name  is  quite  unknown  at  that  period ; for  Buddha  himself 
was  as  central  a figure  in  his  religion  as  was  that  of  Christ  in 
his.  The  next  tangible  fact  that  presents  itself  is  that  in  the 
reign  of  Augustus  a king  Porus  of  India  sent  an  embassy  to 
Rome,  and  the  ambassador,  who  burned  himself  at  Athens 
under  a name  that  means  “ ascetic-teacher,”  may  have  been  a 
Buddhist.  At  any  rate,  he  was  an  Indian,  and  his  presence 
in  Rome  in  the  first  century  shows  that  intercommunication 
of  some  sort  between  India  and  the  West  was  not  rare.  The 
same  conclusion  must  be  drawn  from  the  known  general  facts 
that  there  was  political  communication  for  centuries  before 
the  Christian  era,  and  that  a large  number  of  traders  passed 
between  Egypt  and  India  at  this  time. 

Even  before  the  Palmyrene  trade  with  India,  there  were 
two  routes  which  formed  a means  of  communication,  a trade- 
route  by  sea  from  Alexandria,  and  a land-route  from  Babylon 
to  the  Punjab.  In  the  first  century  of  our  era,  as  we  learn 
from  Dio,  Hindus  had  not  only  visited  Alexandria,  but  were 
settled  there  as  residents  of  the  city.  It  is,  however,  eas}’’ 
to  exaggerate  the  extent  of  the  intellectual  intercourse.  The 
“ Greek  letter  ” borne  by  the  embassy  to  Augustus  about 
20  B.  c.  purported  to  come  from  Hindus,  but  it  may  have 


124 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


been  indited  by  Greek  traders  in  Gujarat.  The  few  Hindus 
in  Alexandria  must  have  been  uneducated  traders,  or  we 
should  not  have  Strabo’s  testimony  to  the  fact  that  it  was 
very  difficult  for  him  to  find  any  one  to  give  reliable  infor- 
mation about  India.  Strabo  also  tells  us  that  only  a few 
ignorant  Greek  traders  had  got  to  the  Ganges,  and  states 
that  only  this  one  embassy  to  Augustus  had  ever  been 
sent  to  the  West.  When,  therefore,  the  advocates  of  Bud- 
dhistic influence  claim  that  two  hundred  years  before  the 
Christian  era  Buddhist  missionaries  had  been  all  through 
the  West  and  had  established  churches  there,  we  may  well 
inquire  on  what  they  rely  for  a statement  so  extraordinary. 
Such  tales  must  be  discounted  as  fully  as  Philostratus’ 
account  of  Apollonius’  journey  in  the  first  centuiy  of  our 
era,  during  which  the  latter  is  said  to  have  found  a Punjab 
king  who,  having  been  educated  as  a Greek,  was  on  a certain 
occasion  “ reading  the  Heraclidie  ; ” while  even  the  Punjab 
villagers  spoke  Greek.  Up  to  the  present,  no  trace  of  any 
early  Buddhistic  worship  has  been  found  in  the  West.  The 
only  known  monument,  a reputed  Gnostic  tomb  in  Syracuse, 
is  only  supposed  to  have  been  Buddhistic  — two  suppositions 
in  regard  to  a monument  of  comparatively  late  date. 

In  short,  while  Eastern  civilization  had  already  impinged 
upon  the  West,  and  while  there  is  therefore  a possibility 
that  the  religions  of  the  East  were  not  unknown  in  Syria, 
such  meagre  reports  as  we  have  before  the  end  of  the 
first  century  make  any  special  knowledge  of  Buddhism  there 
at  that  time  highly  improbable.  Within  two  centuries  of 
this  time,  however,  Hindu  beliefs  were  studied,  as  we  learn 
from  Eusebius,  who  says  that  Pantaenus  taught  in  India 
before  teaching  in  Egypt  in  the  second  century.  There  was, 
as  we  know,  direct  transfer  of  philosophy  in  the  second 
century  in  the  writings  of  Bardesanes,  copied  in  the  third 
century  by  Porphyry.  That  Neo-platonism  at  an  earlier  date 
may  have  been  indirectly  influenced  by  Hinduism  as  ex- 
ploited by  Pythagoras,  is  at  least  possible.  That  there  were 
mystics  in  Syria  at  the  time  of  the  apostles,  as  well  as  other 


CHRIST  IN  INDIA. 


125 


(immoral)  doctrinaires  hateful  to  the  angel  of  the  Lord,  may 
also  be  granted  in  view  of  the  Simonians  and  Nicolaitans 
mentioned  in  the  Acts  and  Revelations. 

But  those  who  claim  that  these  facts  are  sufficient  to 
prove  that  Christ  borrowed  his  religion  exaggerate  the  impor- 
tance of  such  slight  acquaintance  with  the  East  as  can  be 
shown  to  have  existed.  There  is,  so  far  as  objective  histor- 
ical data  go,  no  warrant  for  the  idea  that  Christ’s  religion 
was  moulded  on  any  other.  To  show  that  it  was  moulded 
on  another,  and  that  that  other  was  Buddhism,  requires 
some  proof  much  more  tangible  than  any  facts  furnished 
by  external  history. 

We  are  then  thrown  back  upon  the  literary  evidence, 
where  the  proof  is  to  a great  extent  subjective,  though  we 
have  a right  to  demand  that  it  should  be  of  the  strongest 
possible  character.  This  evidence  consists  of  parallels  in 
the  traditions  of  the  two  religions. 

Of  the  fifty  odd  parallels  established  between  Buddhism 
and  Christianity,  only  five  are  considered  to  be  cogent, 
that  is,  as  necessarily  implying  a loan  from  Buddhism.  This 
distinction  of  values  in  the  quality  of  the  evidence  was 
not  left  to  the  adverse  critic  to  demonstrate,  but,  to  the  credit 
of  Professor  Seydel,  who  first  gave  scientific  form  to  the 
theory,  it  was  conscientiously  pointed  out  when  the  hypothe- 
sis was  originally  presented  (in  1882  and  1884).  Unhappily, 
however,  later  writers  have  often  laid  equal  weight  upon 
all  cases  reckoned  as  parallels,  being  content  apparently  to 
make  their  heap  as  large  as  possible.  But  it  is  scarcely 
necessary  to  prove  that  the  fact  that  Tibetan  Buddhism,  which 
arose  late  in  our  era,  recognized  a virgin  mother  long  after 
Catholic  missionaries  had  been  in  Tibet  (whereas  the  pre- 
Christian  Buddhistic  church  denied  that  Buddha’s  mother 
was  a virgin  at  all)  is  not  to  be  put  into  the  same  category 
with  the  fact  that  long  before  Christianity  Buddhists  believed 
in  the  miraculous  birth  of  Buddha. 

The  original  segregation  of  material  into  parallels  which 
(a)  prove  nothing,  ( i ) seem  to  show  that  Christianity  has 


126 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


borrowed,  and  ( c ) prove  that  Christianity  has  borrowed  from 
Buddhism,  makes  it  possible  in  a sketch  of  this  kind  to 
confine  the  attention  chiefly  to  the  third  group,  which,  if  it 
seems  to  offer  good  evidence,  may  be  strengthened  by  the 
others. 

Two  of  the  five,  which  may  for  convenience  be  called 
the  Cogent  Parallels,  are  parallels  between  Buddhistic  narra- 
tive and  passages  not  found  in  the  Synoptic  Gospels,  but 
in  John.  This  point,  however,  may  be  overlooked  at  present, 
though  I shall  take  up  these  cases  first. 

The  first  Cogent  Parallel,  then,  is  as  follows  : In  the  first 
chapter  of  John  it  is  related  that  Christ  saw  Nathaniel  under 
a fig-tree ; in  Buddhistic  legend,  Gotama  Buddha  becomes 
buddha , “ enlightened,”  while  sitting  under  the  fig-tree 
which  is  now  called  the  Bo-tree,  or  tree  of  enlightenment. 
The  question  here,  as  in  the  case  of  the  other  Cogent  Paral- 
lels, is  whether  Nathaniel’s  fig-tree  must  necessarily  have 
been  borrowed  from  Buddha’s  fig-tree,  under  which  the 
latter  sat  safely  till  he  found  enlightenment.  It  is  added  that 
both  Buddha  and  Christ  were  calling  their  first  disciples 
when  the  fig-tree  is  mentioned,  but  this  statement  is  driven 
across  the  limit  of  accuracy. 

If  a fig-tree  were  a rarity  in  Hebrew  tradition,  it  might 
be  granted  that  there  was  something  exotic  about  the  scene 
itself.  But,  far  from  being  unique  in  biblical  allusion, 
the  fig-tree  is  typical.  It  would  be  equally  cogent  to  point 
to  the  fact  that  Buddha  sat  safely  under  the  fig-tree 
and  to  the  statement  that  “Judah  and  Israel  dwelt  safely 
every  man  under  his  fig-tree,”  and  thence  conclude  that 
1 Kings,  iv.  25  was  copied  from  Buddhism.  But  if  we 
consider  that  the  category  of  Cogent  Parallels  was  established 
as  a group  of  parallels  which  imply  not  only  borrowing,  but 
borrowing  from  Buddhism,  on  the  ground  that  the  Christian 
side  is  inconceivable  without  such  borrowing,  we  must,  I 
think,  refuse  to  admit  the  fig-tree  into  this  category,  and  can 
only  wonder  that  it  has  been  put  there  by  any  historian. 

The  next  case  is  found  in  the  ninth  chapter  of  John. 


CHRIST  IN  INDIA. 


127 


Here  the  disciples  ask  Christ  concerning  a blind  man: 
Who  did  sin,  this  man,  or  his  parents,  that  he  was  born 
blind?  If  Christ  had  been  under  Buddhistic  influence,  he 
would  surely  have  said,  This  man  only ; for  the  Karma  doc- 
trine of  Buddhism  teaches  that  a man’s  condition  in  this  life 
is  the  result  of  his  mental  or  physical  acts  in  a former  life. 
Jesus  answered,  Neither  hath  this  man  sinned,  nor  his 
parents.  It  is  to  be  noticed,  moreover,  that  this  is  not 
a parallel  scene,  for  no  parallel  event  is  recorded  in  the 
life  of  Buddha,  and  it  is  not  till  two  or  three  centuries  after 
Christ  that  we  find  even  an  approximation  to  the  biblical 
narrative,  in  the  late  Buddhistic  account  of  a blind  man  cured 
by  a physician,  who  gives  the  usual  Hindu  explanation  that 
sin  caused  the  blindness.  The  only  parallel  in  the  Gospel 
account  is  one  of  thought,  for  it  is  claimed  that  such  an  idea 
as  is  here  presented  in  the  disciples’  question  implies  a doc- 
trine that  is  specially  Buddhistic  (namely,  sin  working  out 
in  disease  in  a new  birth),  because  it  is  foreign  to  Jewish 
ways  of  thinking.  But  the  latter  point  may  be  admitted 
without  any  necessity  of  accepting  the  explanation,  since 
an  Egyptian  source  is  quite  as  probable  as  a loan  from 
India.  Historically  there  is  certainly  nothing  to  compel  the 
acceptance  of  a Buddhistic  source,  and  therefore  the  parallel 
cannot  be  regarded  as  really  cogent.1 

The  third  Cogent  Parallel  is  found  in  the  fact  that  both 
Christ  and  Buddha  existed  in  heaven  before  they  were  born 
on  earth.  But  it  is  difficult  to  see  how  in  Christ’s  case  any 
other  view  could  have  obtained.  Even  if  it  were  necessary 
to  admit  that  the  idea  of  the  divinity  having  pre-existence 

1 The  idea  of  sin  in  one  life  resulting  in  malformation  or  some  other  mis- 
fortune in  the  next  is  an  addition  to  the  underlying  belief  in  metempsychosis. 
Tiie  latter  belief  appears  to  have  obtained  among  Christ’s  contemporaries  in 
Syria,  judging  from  the  matter-of-course  way  in  which  John  is  asked  (John  i.) 
whether  he  is  Elijah,  and  Christ  himself  seems  to  have  taught  that  John  was 
Elijah  (Matthew  xi.  and  xvii.),at  least  “ in  spirit  and  power,”  as  was  declared 
by  the  angel,  Kal  ainbs  7rpoj€Aeu<reTai  ivdiriov  ai/Tov  iu  irvevpari  Kal  Svva/xu 
HAtou  (Luke  i.  17).  Origen’s  objections  to  such  an  interpretation  show  that 
it  was  at  least  considered  possible. 


123 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


(before  being  born  on  earth)  must  necessarily  have  been  bor- 
rowed, there  would  be  no  historical  obligation  to  recognize 
the  idea  as  Buddhistic,  — which  is,  of  course,  the  only  reason 
for  claiming  that  it  is  a Cogent  Parallel,  — since  the  same 
conception  is  not  only  found  in  Zoroastrianism,  where  also 
the  prophet  is  believed  to  have  had  a pre-existence,  but  is  in 
fact  common,  and  necessarily  so,  to  all  the  many  religions 
holding  that  a divinity  may  be  born  as  man. 

The  next  Cogent  Parallel  is  united  with  the  following 
second-class  ( b ) parallel.  When  Buddha  was  a babe,  the  old 
Yogin  Asita  flew  down  from  his  retreat  in  the  Himalaya 
Mountains  and  prophesied  concerning  the  child’s  future  great- 
ness, lamenting  that  he  himself  could  not  live  to  see  the  ful- 
filment of  the  prophecy.  This  is  put  as  a parallel  to  Simeon’s 
prophecy  concerning  Christ.  It  is  not  regarded  as  a Cogent 
Parallel,  although  it  may  be  remarked  that  thus  far  it  is  the 
only  striking  one.  The  date  of  this  legend  is,  however,  prob- 
ably anterior  to  our  era,  since  it  is  well  known  in  the  first 
century  A.  D.  It  is  necessary  to  mention  it  merely  because 
unscientific  writers  ascribe  it  to  a much  earlier  date  and  insist 
that  it  must  have  been  the  prototype  of  the  Simeon  story.  But 
Max  Midler  very  properly  says  that  it  is  one  of  those  parallels 
which  are  without  any  historical  significance ; and  since  even 
Seydel  does  not  regard  it  as  cogent,  we  may  pass  it  by  as 
unimportant. 

But  with  this  is  linked  a Cogent  Parallel ; namely,  the  pre- 
sentation in  the  temple.  The  Buddhistic  version  is  that  when 
Buddha  was  carried  to  the  temple  of  the  gods,  the  idols  fell 
down  before  him.  First,  however,  it  must  be  noticed  that 
this  linking  of  the  two  stories  over-emphasizes  the  parallel  in 
the  former,  for  Asita  is  not  represented  as  being  in  the  temple 
at  all ; and,  secondly,  the  Buddhistic  presentation  scene,  far 
from  being  primitive,  is  not  found  till  the  second  or  third 
centuiy  after  Christ,  although  it  is  just  such  a story  as  we 
should  expect  to  find  in  the  early  tradition,  where,  however,  it 
is  entirely  wanting.  For  the  Asita  story  is  found  in  the  Buddha 
Carita  of  the  first  century,  but  the  presentation  story  not  till 


CHRIST  IN  INDIA. 


129 


the  time  of  the  Lalita  Yistara,  which  is  at  least  a century  or 
two  later,  and,  as  you  will  see,  it  may  have  been  influenced 
by  Christian  tradition. 

Four  of  the  Cogent  Parallels  and  one  second-class  parallel 
have  now  been  examined,  and  thus  far  the  examination  has 
yielded  the  fig-tree  and  the  pre-existence  in  heaven  as  the 
only  Cogent  Parallels  dating  from  before  our  era,  the  blind 
man  and  the  presentation  in  the  temple  as  post-Christian 
legends,  and  the  Asita  story  of  middle  date,  though  probably 
pre-Christian. 

To  the  only  remaining  Cogent  Parallel  I add  also  another 
which  has  been  much  discussed,  — the  miraculous  birth. 
This  has  been  made  more  striking  by  ascribing  virginity  to 
Buddha’s  mother,  although,  as  I have  said,  the  early  texts, 
far  from  ascribing  virginity  to  her,  expressly  state  that  she 
was  not  a virgin.  The  introduction  of  this  parallel  under  the 
caption  Buddha’s  Immaculate  Conception,  Buddha’s  Virgin 
Mother,  belongs,  however,  only  to  the  popular  and  somewhat 
vulgar  class  of  writers  to  whom  allusion  has  already  been 
made ; and  I cite  it  here  merely  as  a typical  example  of  the 
style  in  which  grave  historical  subjects  are  treated  by  cer- 
tain debaters,  whose  object  does  not  seem  to  be  to  arrive  at 
the  truth,  but  only  to  convince  others.  But  such  advocates 
are  not  historians  and  may  be  ignored  as  unnecessary. 

Freed  from  fictitious  embellishments,  there  is  still  a certain 
parallel  to  the  story  of  Christ’s  birth  in  the  story  of  Buddha’s 
birth.  But  it  is  not  a very  remarkable  parallel  when  we  con- 
sider that  miraculous  birth  was  a necessary  concomitant  of 
spiritual  greatness,  and  that  it  is  by  no  means  necessary  to 
seek  the  origin  of  the  Christian  account  in  India,  when,  if  a 
source  must  be  found  for  it,  the  Iranian  parallel  is  much  closer. 
According  to  early  Buddhistic  legend  the  mother  was  not  a 
virgin,  but  a chaste  wife,  into  whom  miraculously  entered  in 
the  shape  of  a white  elephant  the  future  Buddha,  who  subse- 
quently came  out  of  her  right  side.  The  Iranian  legend,  on 
the  other  hand,  is  as  follows  : “ The  Glory  enters  the  house 
where  the  future  Zaratusht’s  (Zoroaster’s)  mother  herself  is 

9 


130 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


about  to  be  born.  Uniting  itself  with  her  presence  it  abides 
in  her  until  she  reaches  the  age  of  fifteen,  when  she  brings 
forth  her  own  first-born,  the  prophet  of  Iran,”  etc.1  With  this 
parallel  at  hand  can  the  Buddhistic  elephant  be  regarded  as 
an  important  parallel  ? The  historian  of  the  Orient  knows 
that  all  religious  teachers  are  regarded  as  divine  and  as  such 
have  miraculous  births ; in  India,  even  from  the  time  of 
Vasishtha,  the  Yedic  saint.  We  need  not  cite  the  sculp- 
tured testimony  to  the  antiquity  of  this  legend  in  outline. 
Undoubtedly  Buddha’s  miraculous  birth  was  believed  in  as 
early  as  the  third  century  B.  c.  and  perhaps  earlier.  But  is 
tins  enough  to  show  that  it  was  the  model  from  which  was 
copied  the  story  of  the  virgin  mother  of  Christ  ? I doubt 
whether  any  close  student  of  Oriental  history  would  be  con- 
vinced by  such  evidence.  It  is  at  any  rate  not  regarded  as 
Cogent  by  Seydel  himself ; nor,  so  far  as  I know,  by  any  one 
else  whose  opinion  is  of  importance. 

The  last  Cogent  Parallel  has  perhaps  been  relied  upon 
more  than  any  other  to  show  that  Buddhistic  legends  are 
incorporated  into  Christian  records.  It  is  the  fast  preceding 
the  temptation.  In  the  New  Testament  we  are  told  that 
Christ  fasted  forty  days  and  was  then  tempted  of  the  devil  to 
turn  stones  into  bread,  to  cast  himself  from  the  pinnacle  of 
the  temple,  to  take  the  glory  of  the  kingdoms  of  earth  in 
exchange  for  worshipping  the  devil ; and  when  he  had 
refused,  angels  came  and  ministered  unto  him.  In  the 
legend  of  Buddha,  Death,  who  plays  the  devil’s  part,  tempts 
Buddha  (as  the  latter  is  on  the  point  of  becoming  perfect  and 
thus  about  to  escape  Death  ever  after)  to  yield  to  sensual 
pleasures.  But,  failing  in  this  purpose,  he  attacks  Buddha 
with  a storm,  which,  however,  does  not  disturb  Buddha’s 
serenity,  and  finally  attacks  him  with  an  army.  Buddha, 
however,  still  sits  unmoved  under  the  Bo-tree,  and  Death 
retires  discomfited.  Buddha  continues  to  sit  under  the 
Bo-tree  till  he  has  become  really  enlightened,  and  then  after 

1 Jackson,  Zoroaster,  pp.  24  ff.  Ib.  page  28,  attention  is  called  to  a Zoroas- 
trian  parallel  to  Herod’s  slaughter  of  the  innocents. 


CHRIST  IN  INDIA. 


131 


fasting  for  twenty-eight  days,  or,  according  to  a later  account, 
forty-nine  days,  begins  his  ministry. 

It  will  be  observed  that,  though  this  parallel  contains  a 
fast  and  temptation,  the  details  are  different.  The  induce- 
ments offered  are  dissimilar,  and  the  order  of  temptation  and 
fast  are  reversed.  Nevertheless,  it  may  be  admitted  that  we 
have  here  rather  a close  parallel,  though  it  may  be  added  that 
the  whole  Buddhistic  legend  is  not  primitive.  To  cite  the 
statement  of  Rhys  Davids : 1 “ When  it  is  first  incidentally 
referred  to  we  find  only  the  bare  mention  of  a suggestion  to 
the  Blessed  One  that  now  . . . his  work  is  done  and  that  the 
time  has  arrived  for  him  to  pass  away  without  attempting  to 
proclaim  to  others  the  glad  tidings  of  the  Noble  Way.”  But 
this  is  really  of  little  importance  for  our  purpose,  since  the 
story  of  Death  making  the  suggestion  (which  is  the  germ  of 
the  temptation)  is  as  early  as  the  Book  of  the  Great  Decease, 
that  is  centuries  older  than  Christ’s  birth.  On  the  other 
hand,  it  must  be  remembered  that  this  is  one  of  the  five 
Cogent  Parallels  which  are  represented  as  cogent  because 
they  contain  elements  which  are  unintelligible  if  they  are 
Christian,  while  if  they  are  originally  Buddhistic  they  are 
perfectly  natural.  How  far  this  trait  is  strained  in  the  pre- 
ceding examples  has  been  shown.  In  this  example  we  may 
well  ask  why  a forty  days’  fast  must  be  derived  from  Bud- 
dha’s fast  ? Moses  fasted  forty  days,  and  the  type  is  familiar 
to  the  Jews,  who  also  had  the  devil. 

From  these  comparisons  it  becomes  clear  that  the  historical 
student’s  first  duty  is  to  make  a sharp  division  between  those 
parallels  which  can  and  those  which  cannot  be  referred  to  a 
time  earlier  than  the  birth  of  Christ.  Thus  in  the  Lotus, 
which  cannot  be  referred  to  a date  earlier  than  200  A.  D.,  is 
found  the  parable  of  the  prodigal ; and  in  the  same  work, 
the  curing  of  a blind  man  by  a physician,  who  says  that  the 
blindness  is  the  result  of  his  former  sins.  In  the  Lalita  Vis- 
tara,  which,  as  I have  said,  belongs  to  the  second  or  third 
century  of  our  era,  occurs  the  temple-scene,  and  here  also  the 
1 Buddhism,  p.  104. 


132 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


scene  where  Buddha  shows  his  precocity  by  exhibiting 
knowledge  of  all  the  kinds  of  alphabets,  including  the  Chin- 
ese. Still  more  insecure  are  parallels  based  on  Burmese, 
Tibetan,  and  Chinese  traditions  dating  from  the  sixth  to  the 
thirteenth  century,  although  they  have  all  been  used  to  sup- 
port the  structure  of  parallels.  Some  of  the  second-class 
parallels,  those  which  may  show  borrowing,  have  already 
been  given.  A complete  list  may  be  seen  in  Seydel’s  Evan- 
gelium,  p.  299  If.  Here  the  not  very  striking  facts  that  Buddha 
and  Christ  both  preached  on  mountains,  and  that  verses  occur 
in  Buddhistic  narration  and  in  the  prose  of  Luke’s  Gospel,  are 
given  as  cases  of  probably  Christian  borrowing;  while  it  is 
frankly  admitted  that  “ Die  frappantesten  Analogien  aber 
gehoren  dem  Lalita  Vistara  an  ” (p.  300),  that  work  which 
cannot  be  traced  back  of  200  A.  D.,  though  Seydel  opines,  of 
course,  that  it  implies  older  material. 

Among  the  third-class  (a)  parallels,  as  explained  above,  are 
found  the  Herod  story  (which,  however,  has  a still  closer  paral- 
lel in  Zarathustrian  legend  than  is  found  in  the  Buddhistic 
story  of  Bimbisara);  the  preference  shown  by  Christ  and  Bud- 
dha for  certain  disciples ; the  fact  that  both  Christ  and  Buddha 
are  given  genealogies.  In  this  group,  to  the  great  credit  of  the 
author,  is  put  the  miraculous  conception,  which  less  scholarly 
writers  regard  as  one  of  the  most  important  parallels. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  following  “ parallel  ” is  enrolled 
even  by  Seydel  himself.  Buddha  sent  out  his  disciples  and 
ordered  them  not  to  go  in  pairs,  “ in  strange  contrast  to  Luke 
x.  1 (Christ  sent  them  two  and  two),  but  this  contrast  is 
eliminated  by”  — what?  the  fact  that  “later”  the  Buddhis- 
tic missionaries  went  forth  in  pairs  ! 1 

Parallels  in  the  sayings  of  both  teachers  are  illustrated  by 
the  following:  Jesus  said,  He  that  findeth  his  life  shall  lose  it. 
Buddha  is  not  reported  as  having  said  this,  but  in  Buddhistic 
literature  is  found,  The  King  of  Death  does  not  see  one  who 
looks  upon  this  world  as  (unstable  like)  a bubble  or  sunbeam. 
Another  striking  parallel : Jesus  said,  Be  not  anxious  for 
1 Die  Buddha-Legende,  p.  66. 


CHRIST  IN  INDIA. 


133 


the  morrow,  sufficient  unto  the  day ; a Buddhistic  verse  says, 
The  fool  thinks,  I will  live  here  winter  and  summer,  but  does 
not  think  of  the  end  of  life.  Still  another : “ Jesus’  Judce 
not,  and  the  Take  the  beam  from  thine  own  eye  is  paralleled 
by,  Let  one  not  have  another’s  faults  in  his  eye.”  It  is  almost 
incredible  that  such  parallels  should  be  cited,  but  the  last 
case  is  more  than  usually  venturesome,  for  on  turning  to  the 
original  it  may  be  seen  that  what  is  translated  “have  in  his 
eye  ” is  so  translated  merely  to  make  a parallel  with  “ take 
the  beam  from  thine  own  eye,”  whereas  the  original  text, 
Dhammapada  50,  avekkheyya,  has  merely  “ observe,”  or  look 
at,  of  which  hub'  man  im  Aug ’ would  be  a correct  enough 
translation,  but  for  the  fact  that  the  author  makes  a special 
point  of  finding  a parallel  between  phrases  (Seydel’s  Evan- 
gelium,  p.  21 2). 1 One  more  of  these  extraordinary  parallels 
will  suffice.  Jesus  said,  Blessed  are  the  poor,  and,  Sell  all 
that  thou  hast,  while  in  the  Buddhist  Dhammapada  occurs 
a verse,  “ The  greedy  do  not  get  to  heaven,  the  generous  wise 
man  becomes  happy  above.” 

The  fact  that  “parallels”  are  cited  as  historically  connected 
on  the  strength  of  such  resemblance  as  this  shows  how 
strained  may  become  the  whole  argument.  Yet  many  of 
the  parallels  are  no  closer  or  more  convincing.  The  case 
might  well  be  put  on  the  other  side  : Why,  if  Christ  copies 
Buddha,  is  there  no  real  resemblance  in  his  sayings  to  those 
of  his  presumed  copy?  In  regard  to  parallel  miracles  we 
have,  to  sum  up,  two  sorts,  — those  of  universal  origin,  as  we 
may  call  them,  and  those  that  are  found  only  in  Christianity 
and  Buddhism.  Now  the  only  miracles  certainly  found  in 
pre-Christian  Buddhism  are  of  the  former  sort,  while  the 
latter  sort  is  found  only  in  such  dateless  material  as  the 
Jatakas,  or  in  material  which,  like  the  Lotus  and  Lalita,  dates 
from  after  the  Christian  era.  Two  very  striking  Jataka 
parallels  are  given  by  Max  Muller.2  One  of  them  is  the  story 

1 Another  instance  of  this  same  method  of  making  a fictitious  resemblance 
is  given  in  Max  Muller’s  essay  on  Coincidences,  reprinted  in  Last  Essays, 
P-  282.  2 £oc.  cit.,  p.  284  ff. 


134 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


of  a disciple  walking  upon  the  water;  the  other,  that  of 
Buddha  making  one  loaf  feed  more  than  five  hundred  people. 
It  is  quite  impossible  to  say  on  the  historical  evidence 
whether  these  stories  were  borrowed  by  or  from  Christianity. 
All  we  know  is  that  they  are  Jataka  stories,  and  there  is  no 
proof  that  these  special  Jatakas  were  pre-Christian;  which, 
however,  does  not  prove  that  they  were  not.1 

As  is  clear  from  the  last  examples,  one  factor  in  all  these 
parallels  is  of  the  greatest  importance.  We  are  accustomed 
in  the  West  to  deal  with  documents  the  date  of  which 
can  usually  be  determined  within  a few  years  or  decades, 
and  it  is  not  often  that  as  with  Homer  we  have  to  content 
ourselves  with  referring  to  literary  works  as  probably  belong- 
ing to  any  time  within  two  or  three  centuries,  - — works  of 
what  we  may  call  the  period  of  nebulous  history.  Now  the 
first  thing  that  every  student  of  Indian  literature  has  to  learn 
is  that  most  of  the  works  composed  in  India  before  the  fourth 
century  of  our  era  have  merely  nebulous  dates.  There  is 
not  a single  pre-Christian  Sanskrit  book  concerning  which 
we  can  say  that  the  work  as  it  has  come  down  to  us 
was  certainly  composed  at  any  time  within  two  hundred 
years.  And,  moreover,  the  Buddhistic  records  with  which 
we  are  especially  concerned  are  not  only  of  very  uncertain 
date,  but  they  are  also  of  very  mixed  origin,  being  for  the 
most  part  works  not  composed  by  any  one  author,  but  col- 
lections of  legends  loosely  connected  and  enlarged  by  late 
accretions  of  every  sort,  as  is  admitted  even  by  those  who 
exploit  such  works  as  historical  material.  We  may  think, 
and  it  is  quite  probable  we  are  right  in  thinking,  that  such 
books  as  the  Lotus  of  the  True  Law  and  the  Lalita  Vistara 
contain  a substratum  of  legend  much  older  than  the  date 

1 The  Jakatas  as  a group  are  of  quite  uncertain  date.  The  story  of  some 
lias  been  found  in  stone  wrought  in  pre-Christian  times,  but  even  the  corre- 
sponding Jatakas  as  we  have  them  (in  literary  form)  may  be  much  later,  and 
as  for  the  mass  of  these  works,  there  is  no  proof  at  all  that  in  their  present 
form  they  antedate  our  era.  A very  few  can  be  shown  to  be  essentially  (not 
necessarily  in  their  present  shape)  older  than  this  ; but  the  striking  parallels 
adduced  above  are  not  found  in  Jatakas  (jatakas.  Birth-tales)  of  this  class. 


CHRIST  IN  INDIA. 


135 


to  which  we  must  in  general  assign  the  works  themselves. 
It  may  even  be  shown  that  the  Lalita  Vistara,  an  epical 
history  of  Buddha  without  inner  connection,  reverts  in 
origin  to  an  older  and  simpler  account;  but  this  merely 
shows  that  the  book  has  received  accretions,  and  surely,  on 
the  basis  of  such  an  opinion  or  such  a reconstruction,  we 
are  not  entitled  to  operate  with  the  presumed  original 
as  if  it  furnished  the  date  of  the  completed  conglomerate 
which  now  is  called  Lalita  Vistara. 

Of  the  Sanskrit  works  thus  essential  to  the  theory  of 
a borrowed  Christianity,  the  Lotus  is  referred  vaguely  to 
the  third  century,  or  at  earliest  to  about  200  A.  D.,  while 
there  is  no  evidence  whatever  that  the  Lalita  Vistara  in 
its  present  shape  antedates  the  third  century.  It  is  quite 
justifiable  to  suppose  that  the  original  of  the  Lotus  may 
be  some  centuries  earlier;  but  it  is  quite  as  unhistorical 
to  refer  legends  of  our  present  Lotus  to  a pre-Christian  era 
as  it  would  be  to  put  the  history  of  Herodotus  into  the 
eighth  century  because  some  of  his  stories  may  have  had 
a more  antique  form.  One  of  the  oldest  of  these  works  is 
the  Buddha  Carita  of  Aqvaghosha,  which  has  the  distinction 
of  being  assigned  to  a definite  author,  whose  date  at  earliest 
is  the  close  of  the  first  century  of  our  era;  but  even  this 
date  is  a matter  of  conjecture,  not  of  such  certainty  as  to 
fix  the  time  of  the  work  definitively.  For  we  are  forced 
to  depend  upon  statements  in  regard  to  it  which  are  them- 
selves made  centuries  after  the  assumed  date.  Now  it  is  in 
relying  absolutely  upon  such  evidence  that  the  advocates 
of  the  borrowing  theory  are  constantly  making  historical 
blunders.  If  we  remove  from  the  parallels  admitted  to 
be  close  those  which  unquestionably  belong  to  pre-Christian 
sources,  we  find  very  little  left  on  which  to  base  the 
argument  that  Christ  drew  his  religion  from  Buddhistic 
sources. 

More  weight  has  been  laid  upon  the  Lalita  Vistara  and 
more  ingenuity  has  been  expended  to  prove  that  it  contains 
ante-Christian  tales  than  in  the  case  of  any  other  late 


136 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


Buddhistic  work,  because  it  has  so  many  interesting  parallels. 
In  allowing  to  this  poetic  hodge-podge  of  tales  drawn  from 
any  source  an  antiquity  as  respectable  as  I have,  I wish 
to  show  the  greatest  liberality  consistent  with  historical 
possibilities.  The  actual  latitude  in  age  may  be  inferred 
from  the  following  words  of  Rhys  Davids,  a writer  who 
claims  as  great  an  antiquity  as  is  possible,  or  even  greater, 
for  the  simpler  Pali  tradition,  but  says:  “ The  Lalita  Vistara, 
a poem  of  unknown  date  and  authorship,  but  probably  com- 
posed in  Nepal,  and  by  some  Buddhist  poet  who  lived  some 
time  between  six  hundred  and  a thousand  years — i.  e.  500 
A.  d.,  — after  the  birth  of  the  Buddha.”  1 

This  does  not,  of  course,  imply  that  outside  influences 
cannot  have  helped  in  building  up  Christian  tradition.  It 
still  leaves  it,  for  example,  an  open  question  whether  the 
story  of  the  temptation  or  of  the  man  born  blind  may  not 
have  been  later  additions  (as  already  remarked,  the  latter 
is  not  in  the  Synoptic  Gospels),  and  it  is  possible  that  the 
idea  of  Karma  may  have  been  received  from  India.  That  is 
neither  here  nor  there.  The  point  is  that  the  evidence  be- 
fore us  does  not  indicate  that  the  chief  features  of  the 
Gospel  story  were  drawn  from  India,  although  India  had  the 
story  of  the  temptation  at  least  a century  or  two  earlier  than 
our  era. 

Strange  to  say,  there  is  still  another  group  of  authorities 
which  later  writers  especially  have  drawn  upon  without 
discrimination,  this  time  from  the  literature  on  the  other 
side.  For  not  only  is  the  borrowing  theory  based  to  a great 
extent  on  Sanskrit  works  composed  long  after  the  Christian 
era,  but  it  is  based  in  equal  measure  on  Christian  legends 
which  are  also  late  and  quite  as  untrustworthy  reflectors  of 

1 Added  to  this  are  the  words  I here  italicize : 

"As  evidence  of  what  earl//  Buddhism  actually  was,  it  is  of  about  the  same  value 
as  some  mediaeval  poem  would  be  of  the  real  facts  of  the  Gospel  history Hibbert 
Lectures,  p.  197.  And  again : “ We  have  no  external  evidence  which  would 
justify  the  assignment  of  the  Lalita  Vistara  to  any  date  earlier  than  the 
uncertain  one  [the  sixth  century  of  the  Christian  era]  of  its  Tibetan  ver- 
sion,” loc.  cit.  p.  200. 


CHRIST  IN  INDIA. 


137 


earlier  belief;  namely,  the  pseudepigrapha  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment, many  of  which  may  have  been  composed  under  influ- 
ences foreign  to  the  New  Testament  itself. 

And  here  the  impartial  historian  has  to  observe  that  those 
who  argue  on  the  Christian  side  have  also  failed  to  be 
quite  historical  in  regard  to  some  of  the  Buddhistic  monu- 
ments, the  age  of  which  they  depreciate  too  much.  For 
while,  as  already  pointed  out,  the  epical  accounts  of  Buddha’s 
life  are  of  very  uncertain  date,  there  is  a mass  of  documents 
which  there  is  no  reason  to  doubt  are  much  older  than  our 
era,  and  some  of  the  parallels  are  found  among  them.  Espe- 
cially important  is  the  evidence  of  the  sculptured  gateways 
and  other  monuments,  such  as  A§oka’s  edicts,  whereon  are 
carved,  or  actually  referred  to,  the  stories  of  the  temptation 
and  miraculous  birth.  The  former  are  not,  as  Christian 
apologists  have  sometimes  asserted,  later  than  our  era,  but 
they  belong  pretty  certainly  to  the  second  century;  those 
at  Sanchi  are  probably  as  old  as  150  B.  c.  or  older. 

Nor  can  another  item  be  passed  over.  The  upholders  of 
the  view  that  Christianity  has  necessarily  been  borrowed 
from  Buddhism  have  taken  a position  the  weakness  of  which 
has  not  been  exposed  with  the  rigor  that  their  opponents 
might  have  exercised.  For,  as  has  been  shown,  not  a few 
of  these  parallels  are  referred  as  if  necessarily  to  Buddhism 
simply  because  the  theorist  has  ignored  other  possible  origi- 
nals. The  base  of  the  explanation  is  in  many  cases  completely 
demolished  by  the  simple  fact  that,  even  admitting  a loan 
as  probable,  there  are  other  sources  which  are  quite  as 
likely  as  Buddhism  to  have  given  rise  to  the  parallel  case. 
But  the  Christian  apologist  has  at  times  neglected  to  point 
out  the  truth  that  his  own  traditions  are  often  not  unique, 
and  thus  by  ignoring  the  possibility  of  any  borrowing  what- 
ever he  has  played  directly  into  the  hands  of  his  opponent, 
whose  strongest  point  is  the  tacit  assumption  that  if  there 
was  any  borrowing  it  must  have  come  from  Buddhism. 

There  is  one  great  likeness  in  the  work  of  Christ  and 
Buddha.  Both  gave  a new  definition  to  the  word  “ religion,” 


138 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


It  was  assumed  by  each  teacher  that  men  wished  to  be 
religious.  But  each  teacher  made  it  his  life-work  to  incul- 
cate the  new  idea  that  religion  was  not  an  outward  obser- 
vance but  an  inner  state.  In  teaching  that  religion  was  not 
sacrifice  and  ceremonial,  but  purity  and  charity,  Buddha  and 
Christ  in  turn  had  to  inveigh  against  the  priests  that  taught 
a religion  devoid  of  both  essential  elements.  The  same  con- 
ditions gave  rise  to  the  same  result.  Granting  that  a stereo- 
typed formality  had  formed  itself  independently  in  Judea,  it 
was  inevitable  that  the  reaction  against  it  should  emphasize 
the  true  nature  of  religion.  There  is  then  in  this  reaction  as 
personified  in  Christ  merely  a logical  parallel  to  the  reaction 
as  personified  in  Buddha.  If  the  relations  were  one  of  his- 
torical connection,  we  should  expect  to  find  that  Christ  util- 
ized the  teachings  of  his  predecessor.  But  both  the  teaching 
of  Christ  and  the  history  of  missionary  effort  in  the  East  are 
stumbling-blocks  that  the  borrowing  theory  with  all  its  inge- 
nuity has  been  unable  to  cross  successfully.  We  must  look 
at  each  of  these  points  in  turn. 

Is  it  probable  that  Christ  copied  his  religion  from  one  that 
in  every  metaphysical  particular  was  opposed  to  what  he  him- 
self taught  ? Buddha  believed  neither  in  God  nor  soul,  but 
he  believed,  and  every  form  of  his  church  believed,  in  the 
transmigration  of  character,  as  an  entity,  into  a new  body,  — 
a theory  which  has  nothing  to  do  with  heredity,  with  which 
it  has  recently  been  compared.  This  was  an  ingenious  but 
wholly  unscientific  compromise  between  the  popular  belief  of 
the  day  in  metempsychosis  and  Buddha’s  own  denial  of  a 
psyche.  If,  then,  Buddha’s  doctrine  in  these  fundamentals, 
atheism,  apsychism,  character-transfer,  affected  Christ’s  teach- 
ing, why  is  there  no  trace  of  any  one  of  these  essentials  in 
Christ’s  teaching  ? It  has  always  seemed  to  me  that  the 
theory  of  a plagiarized  Christianity  finds  itself  here  in  a 
dilemma  from  which  it  is  impossible  to  escape.  For  if  Christ 
simply  copied,  why  is  there  no  trace  of  the  copy?  If,  on  the 
other  hand,  he  was  imbued  with  a Buddhism  current  and  well 
known  in  his  day,  — as  think  the  pleaders  for  plagiarism,  — 


CHRIST  IN  INDIA. 


139 


but  was  antagonistic  to  it,  bis  attitude  in  regard  to  these 
points  must  have  been  as  decided  as  it  was  in  regard  to  other 
views  held  by  the  many  and  denounced  by  him,  and  we 
should  hear  at  least  something  said  in  regard  to  the  moot 
points  of  soul  and  God.  But  not  even  the  disputatious  apostles 
show  any  sign  of  their  religion  having  been  a reaction  against 
an  atheistic  and  soulless  faith,  although  it  is  one  of  the  cardi- 
nal tenets  of  the  borrowing  theory  that  Christ  must  have 
imbibed  Buddhistic  ideas  current  in  Syria  in  his  day.  The 
only  escape  from  this  dilemma  is  in  assuming  that  Christ 
copied  a modified  form  of  Buddhism,  and  this  escape  is 
essayed.  But  here  there  is  difficulty  in  pointing  to  any  faith 
which  reflects  Buddhism.  As  the  Essenes  were  mystics,  they 
have  been  selected,  however,  and  another  development  of  the 
theory  is  that  the  medium  of  communication  was  not  a 
Buddhistic  gospel  current  in  Syria,  but  the  Essenes.  The 
double  claim  is  here  made  that  Christ  was  an  Essene  and 
that  the  Essenes  were  Buddhists. 

This  explanation  of  Christ’s  religion  is  unsatisfactory  from 
an  historical  point  of  view  because  it  involves  two  unknown 
factors.  Even  if  it  were  certain  that  the  Essenes  were 
Buddhists,  there  would  still  be  as  much  doubt  in  regard  to 
Christ  being  an  Essene  as  there  would  be  in  regard  to  his 
being  a Pythagorean  or  Neo-platonist  or  Zoroastrian.  To 
this  uncertain  factor  is  added  the  mere,  conjecture,  which  is 
without  proof  of  any  kind,  that  the  Essenes  were  Buddhists. 
The  evidence,  such  as  it  is,  is  decidedly  against  either  of  the 
two  suggested  relationships.  First,  as  regards  Christ’s  con- 
nection with  the  Essenes,  the  fact  that  Christ  does  not  inveigh 
against  this  body  as  he  does  against  the  other  two  sects  of  his 
day,  the  Pharisees  and  Sadducees,  is  counterbalanced  by  the 
antithesis  between  his  doctrines  and  that  of  the  Essenes,  who 
were  “ superlative  Pharisees,”  the  strictest  Sabbatarians,  and 
sun-worshippers.  Celibacy,  community  of  goods,  and  a very 
strict  moral  law  were  characteristic  of  both  religions.  But 
Christ’s  attitude  toward  the  outer  world  and  all  Pharisaical 
tendencies  does  not  accord  at  all  with  an  Essene’s  views  on 


140 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


these  points.  On  the  other  hand,  the  Essenes  were  so  strictly 
Jewish  that  they  condemned  to  death  not  only  him  who 
blasphemed  against  God,  but  also  him  who  blasphemed 
against  Moses,  while  the  element  of  sun-worship,  which  is 
not  Buddhistic,  but  is  Persian,  would  seem  to  show  that  they 
were  affected  by  a religion  nearer  home  than  any  in  India. 
Finally,  all  that  they  taught  in  regard  to  a previous  existence 
and  the  soul’s  recovery  is  easily  accounted  for  on  the  sup- 
position that  they  were  more  or  less  Hellenized  Jews  ; while 
their  stern  insistence  on  the  two  points  of  soul  and  personal 
God  are  in  direct  antagonism  to  the  chief  tenets  of  Buddhism. 
They  appear  to  have  been  a set  of  religious  mongrels,  Jewish 
in  origin,  but  crossed  with  various  foreign  strains,  among 
which,  however,  there  is  no  certain  trace  of  a Buddhistic 
element.  The  double  hypothesis  of  Christ  being  an  Essene, 
and  the  Essenes  being  Buddhists,  thus  resolves  itself  into 
a desperate  guess  to  explain  in  Christ’s  religion  factors 
which  another  guess  suggests  against  all  probability  may  he 
Buddhistic. 

The  history  of  the  early  Christian  church  in  India  is  a side 
of  this  whole  question  that  is  often  ignored  by  the  up- 
holders of  the  hypothesis  of  borrowing.  But  what  we  know 
in  this  regard  is  so  important  that  to  slur  the  facts  or  to 
omit  them  from  consideration  is  to  belie  history.  These 
facts  are  briefly  as  follows,  though  it  must  be  said  also  that 
the  acceptance  of  foreign  ideas  has  from  the  very  earliest 
phases  of  their  religions  been  characteristic  of  the  Hindus. 
Far  from  being  unchanging,  as  is  often  asserted,  all  the  Hin- 
dus, both  Brahmans  and  Buddhists,  were  mentally  most 
progressive  and  receptive.  They  have  always  taken  new 
gods  from  outside  their  own  pale,  and  have  always  been 
prone  to  assimilate  the  thoughts  and  traditions  of  those  with 
whom  they  have  come  in  contact,  especially  in  religious  mat- 
ters, as  is  shown  by  their  absorption  of  un-Aryan  elements  in 
early  times  and  in  what  I shall  have  to  say  immediately  in 
regard  to  Krishnaism. 

As  to  the  missionaries  sent  to  India : The  legend  that 


CHRIST  IN  INDIA. 


141 


Thomas  went  to  India  and  labored  in  the  realm  of  Gun- 
doferus  could  be  regarded  as  a legend  only  so  long  as  Gonda- 
phares,  to  give  his  real  name,  was  a myth.  But  in  the  last 
century  we  have  learned  that  exactly  at  the  time  when 
Thomas  is  reported  to  have  been  in  India,  and  on  the  route 
which  he  would  most  naturally  take,  a king  by  the  name  of 
Gondaphares  ruled  over  all  the  Parthian  and  western  Punjab 
region.  We  know  also  that  a great  colony  of  Jews  emi- 
grated from  Palestine  — ten  thousand  in  all  — and  settled  on 
the  Malabar  coast  in  A.  D.  68 ; that  Pantaenus  was  expressly 
sent  to  teach  the  Brahmans  in  India,  and  found  a Christian 
church  already  established  there  in  190  A.  d.  ; that  in  the  sixth 
centuiy  there  was  in  South  India  a Christian  church,  which 
according  to  its  own  tradition  had  been  founded  in  the  first 
century ; that  Christian  influence  was  perhaps  strong  enough 
in  the  Northwest  to  leave  Christian  scenes  depicted  in  the 
Peshawar  and  Kandahar  sculptures  of  the  fifth  century ; 1 
that  in  the  seventh  centuiy  missionaries  were  in  middle 
India;  and  that  about  the  same  century  they  were  sent  to 
China,  where,  indeed,  as  in  Tibet,  it  is  probable  that  they 
had  already  been  located  for  some  time. 

In  short,  from  the  first  to  the  seventh  century  of  our  era 
there  was  strong  Christian  influence  at  work  in  India,  and 
the  time  of  missionary  activity  in  India  is  coincident  with  the 
time  of  the  most  striking  parallels,  not  of  the  universal  sort 
but  of  the  minute  and  particular  kind,  which  is  really  the 
only  kind  that  has  significance,  parallels  which  reach  their 
perfection  in  the  modern  Llamaistic  church  of  Tibet,  — a 
form  of  Buddhism  which  has  about  all  the  paraphernalia  of 


1 This  is  the  opinion  of  scholars  whose  judgment  in  regard  to  these  sculp- 
tures is  respected.  . Such  works  as  I have  seen  show  Buddhistic  and  Hindu 
scenes  treated  under  Graeco-Persian  influence,  which  I think  will  be  the  event- 
ual verdict  in  regard  to  all  Buddhistic  sculpture,  none  of  which  is  free  of 
Greek  influence  (as  all  of  it  post-dates  historically  the  presence  of  Greeks  in 
India).  Some  writers  lay  a good  deal  of  stress  on  the  Christian  origin  of  the 
Kandahar  sculptures,  for  which  reason  I include  the  item  with  a “ perhaps,” 
though  I think  the  influence  is  not  quite  without  doubt.  The  other  factors  are 
unquestioned. 


142 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


the  Roman  Catholic  sect,  a pontiff,  sacred  pictures,  a virgin 
madonna,  and  many  other  remarkable  parallels,  carefully  to 
be  distinguished,  however,  from  those  religious  factors  which 
this  church  shares  with  other  forms  of  Buddhism,  such  as 
nuns,  monasteries,  the  rosary,  confession,  and  other  primitive 
elements.  These  have  been  referred  to  so  often  that  the 
detailed  list  may  be  omitted  here,  as  it  can  be  found  in  every 
popular  presentation  of  the  subject.  But  it  must  be  said  that 
in  giving  the  whole  list  there  has  not  always  been  a careful 
distinction  between  what  is  antique  and  new  in  the  Llama- 
istic  service.  When  we  eliminate  the  antique,  which  we  can 
do  by  grouping  the  elements  found  in  primitive  Buddhism, 
we  find  a certain  number  of  minute  resemblances  which  are 
found  only  in  that  church  of  Buddha  which  arose  in  the 
seventh  century  A.  D. ; that  is,  after  the  Nestorian  missionaries 
were  in  full  activity  in  Northern  India.  As  these  were  the 
historical  conditions,  it  is,  to  say  the  least,  extraordinary  that 
any  one  should  imagine  that  the  Roman  Church  got  its  ritual 
from  the  Llama  form  of  Buddhism  ; yet  the  unhistorical  par- 
allelist  (he  really  deserves  a special  name  in  distinction  from 
historian)  unhesitatingly  jumps  to  this  conclusion.  When 
dissected  carefully,  his  amalgam  of  parallels  of  all  ages  shows 
only  one  Catholic  feature  that  may  reasonably  be  supposed 
to  have  been  borrowed  from  the  Buddhistic  paraphernalia; 
namely,  the  rosary.  This  seems  to  have  been  a loan  because 
its  name  is  unintelligible ; whereas  the  Hindu  form  is  a com- 
pound word  that  means  prayer-wreath,  but  at  the  same  time, 
owing  to  the  word  “prayer,”  japa,  being  almost  or  quite 
identical  with  the  word  for  rose,  it  may  be  translated  rose- 
wreath.  This  prayer-wreath  under  an  older  name  was  bor- 
rowed by  Buddhism  itself  from  ^ivaisrn,  and  is  certainly 
older  than  our  era. 

W e may  say  then  with  every  regard  for  historical  accuracy 
that  the  presence  of  parallels  to  Christian  tradition  in  such 
Buddhistic  works  as  cannot  be  referred  back  of  the  first 
century  A.  D.,  is  not  necessarily  explained  by  borrowing  on 
the  part  of  Christianity.  For  this  would  be  almost  as  much 


CHRIST  IN  INDIA. 


143 


of  an  anachronism  as  to  see  in  the  parallel  passages  of  Ver- 
gil and  Theocritus  a proof  that  Theocritus  copied  Vergil. 
Where  the  parallels  make  borrowing  seem  probable,  as  in  the 
case  of  the  miracles  and  legends  not  found  in  other  religions 
and  striking  enough  to  suggest  a loan,  the  historical  evidence 
is  strongly  in  favor  of  Christianity  having  been  not  the  copyist 
but  the  originator. 

The  possibility  that  the  Buddhists  have  borrowed  from 
Christian  tradition  has  been  recognized  by  the  more  scholarly 
advocates  of  the  opposed  theory,  and  Seydel,  for  example, 
meets  it  with  this  rejoinder:  The  Lalita  Vistara  and  other 
works  of  this  class  are,  indeed,  so  late  that  they  may  have 
been  exposed  to  Christian  influence ; but  that  these  works 
did  not  borrow  from  a Christian  source  at  all,  is  proved  by 
the  fact  that  they  did  not  borrow  more  Christian  legends. 
It  is  interesting  to  observe  that  this  is  the  best  argument  that 
can  be  brought  up.  Reverting  to  our  classical  illustration, 
we  might  just  as  well  say:  It  is  clear  that  Vergil  did  not 
take  phrases  from  Theocritus,  for  Theocritus  has  many 
phrases  which  are  not  found  in  Vergil  at  all. 

To  conclude  this  half  of  our  study,  we  may,  I think,  as 
open-minded  historical  students,  safely  assert  that  the  Chris- 
tian religion,  according  to  all  the  evidence,  was  not  plagia- 
rized but  original.  At  the  same  time  we  must  admit  that 
there  is  historical  possibility  in  the  view  that  the  Christian 
narrative  may  have  been  affected  by  Buddhistic  tales,  but  we 
must  just  as  decidedly  maintain  that  no  cogent  proof  of  this 
view  has  yet  been  furnished. 

It  seems  to  me  that  this  is  the  only  scientific  opinion  pos- 
sible, and  I urge  it  particularly  as  against  Max  Muller’s 
demand  ( loc . eit.  p.  290)  that  we  should  not  “ shilly-shally  ” 
with  a not  proven , for  “ what  is  wanted  is  a straightforward 
English  verdict,  Yes  or  No,”  that  is,  to  the  question  as  a 
whole.  Muller  himself,  who  was  quite  as  well  able  as  any 
one  else  to  give  an  opinion  on  the  subject,  was  very  careful 
to  avoid  saying  what  he  thought.  He  left  the  verdict  to 
others  and  refusing  to  say  what  he  believed  denounced  as 


144 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


un-English  any  hesitation  in  saying  yes  or  no.  But  a cate- 
gorical reply  to  many  scientific  and  historical  questions  is 
the  most  unscientific  answer  that  can  be  given ; for  when 
the  fact  asserted  is  not  proven,  Not  Proven  is  the  only 
honest  answer.  Personally  I incline  to  believe  that  the 
early  tradition  of  the  Christian  Church  may  have  received 
additions  from  outside  sources,  and  I think  it  is  quite  possi- 
ble that  Buddhistic  stories  and  ideas  may  have  had  some 
influence,  such  as  was  shown  later  in  taking  Buddha  into 
the  Christian  list  of  saints.  But  no  such  influence  on  the 
earliest  form  of  Christianity  has  been  made  very  probable, 
and  ■what  is  more  important  (and  Muller  reiterates  this  very 
properly)  there  is  nothing  in  any  of  these  parallels  that  fun- 
damentally affects  Christianity.  At  this  point  every  student 
finds  himself  as  to  the  New  Testament  in  much  the  same 
position  as  he  occupies  when  he  compares  geology  and  Genesis. 
If  he  has  so  little  faith  in  the  Bible  as  to  fear  every  new  dis- 
covery of  science  or  to  think  that  Christianity’s  truth  trembles 
in  the  balance  of  Buddhistic  legend,  he  should  close  his  books 
and  in  solitude  demand  of  himself  whether  he  really  under- 
stands the  difference  between  the  essential  and  the  adventi- 
tious in  his  belief,  and  whether  he  ought  to  weight  the  wings 
of  Faith  with  unnecessary  burdens. 

But  let  us,  on  the  other  hand,  remember  this  also,  that 
whereas  it  used  to  require  courage  to  be  liberal  it  now  requires 
courage  to  be  conservative,  to  brave  the  undeserved  reproach 
of  narrow-mindedness,  to  lag  on  the  path  of  presumptive  pro- 
gress and  walk  with  slow-paced  Doubt  rather  than  run  ahead 
with  nimble  Imagination.  All  of  you,  I know,  wish  to  be 
fair,  and  some  of  you  may  think  that  it  is  narrow-minded  not 
to  “ accept  results  ” and  admit  all  that  is  claimed  against  the 
historical  Christianity  taught  in  the  Sunday-school.  Well 
and  good ; I too  try  to  be  as  liberal  as  facts  permit.  But  let 
us  not  mistake  assertions  for  facts.  And  as  to  liberality,  you 
need  not  worry  or  be  disturbed  at  the  liberal  spirit  of  those 
whose  contention  is  that  Buddhism  has  been  the  model  of 
Christianity.  As  I have  said  on  another  occasion,  it  is  not 


CHRIST  IN  INDIA. 


145 


what  a man  believes  that  makes  him  liberal,  but  the  attitude 
he  assumes  toward  that  which  he  does  not  believe.  You  may 
believe  in  nothing  and  be  most  illiberal.  And  so  you  may 
accept  all  new  ideas  and  fancy  you  are  thereby  broad-minded, 
yet  be  as  wanting  in  wisdom  as  if  you  rejected  all  that  was 
new.  In  a word,  both  in  one’s  general  attitude  and  in  one’s 
acceptance  or  rejection  of  ideas  and  statements,  to  be  loose- 
minded  is  not  to  be  liberal-minded. 

But  not  to  preach  to  preachers  (and  I ought  to  ask  pardon 
anyway  for  leaving  history  for  other  matters),  though  I give 
this  general  warning  as  one  useful  in  considering  many 
historical  problems,  I cannot  admit  that  it  has  any  especial 
application  here  except  for  those  who  feel  that  the  Not 
Proven  leaves  a margin  of  doubt  which  troubles  them.  I say 
feel,  because  the  subjective  element  undoubtedly  plays  a part  in 
the  decision,  try  as  hard  as  we  may  to  make  it  objective  only. 
For  them  I repeat  that  the  vital  truth  of  Christianity  is  not 
affected  by  anything  discovered  in  Buddhism.  For  others, 
who,  like  myself,  would  not  be  disturbed  by  any  real  dis- 
coveries in  history,  it  is  enough  to  repeat  that  the  historical 
evidence  in  this  particular  case  makes  it  at  least  probable 
that  Christian  missionaries  were  not  idle  all  the  time  they 
were  in  India  from  the  first  to  the  seventh  century,  and  that 
Buddhism  has  borrowed  somewhat  from  Christianity ; while 
it  is  doubtful  whether  Christianity  has  borrowed  anything 
from  Buddhism.  Of  the  Cogent  Parallels,  one  only  seems  to 
me  indicative  of  a possible  loan,  that  of  the  temptation,  but 
this  is  only  possible,  and  perhaps  not  very  probable.  Even  if 
it  were  shown  to  have  been  borrowed,  however,  the  fact  would 
certainly  detract  nothing  from  Christian  truth. 

The  reception  and  adaptation  of  Christian  legends  by  the 
rival  religion  which  dominated  India  as  Buddhism  began  to 
decline  form  a very  instructive  parallel  (though  one  carefully 
shunned  by  the  parallelist)  to  the  way  in  which  Christianity  was 
(or  at  least  may  have  been)  utilized  in  exploiting  Buddhism. 
This  rival  religion  is  Krishnaism,  a form  of  Vishnuism.  The 

10 


146 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


influence  of  Christianity  upon  it  is  shown  clearly  in  its  later 
stages  and  may  with  good  reason  be  suspected  in  its  earlier 
form.  In  discussing  now  this  form  of  Hindu  religion  as 
it  resembles  Christianity,  I shall  first  have  to  give  some 
historical  data  in  regard  to  it. 

The  worship  of  Krishna  as  a popular  divinity,  correspond- 
ing to  Herakles  in  the  Greek  account  of  Megasthenes,  is 
probably  as  old  as  the  fourth  century  b.  c.  In  the  second 
century  it  appears  to  have  still  been  no  more  than  the  cult 
of  a hero-god,  who  may  have  been  regarded  as  an  avatar 
of  Vishnu  by  his  special  adorers,  the  inhabitants  of  the 
district  about  Delhi  and  Muttra.  But  he  was  still  a hero 
rather  than  a god,  as  Megasthenes  says  in  identifying  the 
valley-god  with  Herakles  and  the  mountain-god  Qiva  with 
Dionysos.  This  is  Krishna’s  character  in  many  parts  of 
the  epic,  always  divine,  though  this  means  little  in  India; 
but  often  he  is  clearly  only  a hero-divinity,  and  he  is  once, 
when  assuming  to  be  Supreme  God,  sharply  rebuked  for 
his  pretensions,  though  of  course  he  triumphs  over  his 
revilers.  Elsewhere,  however,  in  the  same  epic,  Krishna 
is  unquestioned  God.  But  whatever  he  is,  godling,  man- 
god,  or  God,  he  reveals  himself  at  first  only  in  human  form. 

The  great  epic  of  India  is  a huge  compilation  which, 
while  its  story  has  doubtless  swallowed  up  material  that 
was  centuries  older,  belongs  in  its  present  condition  to  the 
century  or  two  immediately  preceding  and  following  our 
era.  Some  of  it  may  be  several  centuries  later  than  our 
era,  but  by  the  fifth  century  A.  D.  it  was  about  its  present 
size  and  presumably  had  about  its  present  content. 

Now  this  epic  has  had  inserted  into  it  a little  poem  which  in 
origin  is  evidently  a late  Upanishad.  It  is  nevertheless  one 
of  the  earliest  of  the  poems  set  in  the  frame  of  the  epic. 
But  it  is  by  no  means  a poem  in  its  original  form.  Both 
the  beginning  and  the  end  are  later  additions  and  the  poem 
has  been  retouched,  as  were  most  other  parts  of  the  epic. 

The  epic  itself  as  a whole  lies  across  our  era,  part  of  it 
being  older,  part  of  it  later  than  the  time  of  Christ,  and 


CHRIST  IN  INDIA. 


147 


as  it  is  difficult  to  be  accurate  in  regard  to  the  date  of 
the  whole,  it  is  still  more  difficult,  although  we  may  recog- 
nize early  and  late  parts  of  interpolations,  to  decide  whether 
these  parts  belong  to  a pre-Christian  era  or  not.  For  exam- 
ple, the  theory  of  the  special  Grace  of  God,  which  saves 
the  sinner,  and  is  the  correlate  to  the  latter’s  “loving  faith,” 
is  a comparatively  late  doctrine  of  the  Upanishads,  appearing 
first  in  those  of  the  third  chronological  order.  Only  here 
is  to  be  found  the  technical  word  for  this  idea,  prasada , 
but  rarely  withal  and  still  interchanging  with  the  earlier 
notion  of  graciousness,  or  literally  calmness,  not  of  God 
towrard  a sinner  but  of  a man’s  own  mind.1  So  the  epic 
poem  to  which  I have  referred  uses  this  word  at  first  only 
in  the  old  sense,  “one  attains  calmness,”  or  graciousness 
of  mind;  but  in  the  last  chapter,  which  is  clearly  an  addition, 
we  find  it  in  the  later  meaning  of  Grace  of  God  (just  as 
it  is  used  in  the  sectarian  Upanishads),  not  once  but  half 
a dozen  times  in  this  one  chapter,  as,  for  example,  in  the 
following : 

He  that  is  faithful  to  me,  whatsoever  be  the  acts  he  does,  obtains 
immortality  through  my  grace. 

Having  thy  thoughts  fastened  on  me,  through  my  grace  thou 
shalt  pass  over  all  difficulties. 

The  Lord  of  all  beings  abides  in  one’s  own  heart.  Go  to  him  as 
thy  refuge ; through  his  grace  thou  shalt  obtain  immortality. 

1 The  general  idea  of  the  grace  of  a god  as  a special  favor  is  of  course  as 
old  as  the  gods  who  could  show  favors.  In  the  Rig  Veda  the  divinity  Speech, 
Vac  (vac),  says  that  she  elects  whom  she  loves,  and  makes  him  mighty. 
In  this  has  been  seen  the  germ  of  the  Logos  doctrine,  and  as  this  study 
takes  up  so  many  sides  of  possible  relations  between  Christian  and  Oriental 
doctrines,  I may  add  here  a word  on  this  point.  Without  denying  that  Gnosti- 
cism may  have  influenced  the  Logos  doctrine,  I yet  think  that  the  part  played 
by  speech  (“Word,”  as  it  is  often  freely  rendered)  in  Indian  theosophy  has 
been  greatly  exaggerated  throughout.  Vac,  Speech,  at  no  time  represents 
Logos.  She  is  simply  a deified  abstraction,  like  Sarasvati,  Eloquence.  In 
the  Vedic  hymn  just  alluded  to,  moreover,  Vac  is  nothing  more  than  the 
personified  power  of  the  priest’s  utterance ; and  when  the  priest  sings,  “ I, 
Speech,  make  powerful  whom  I love,”  he  expresses  simply  the  oft-repeated  idea 
that  the  prayer  of  the  priest,  his  eloquence  with  the  gods,  makes  the  gods 


148 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


He  who  speaks  is  the  divine  man  Krishna,  who  in  this 
poem,  called  the  Lord’s  Recitation,  Bhagavad  Gita  ( gltd ) is 
imparting  to  his  disciple  the  truths  of  a religion  which 
in  the  epic  is  recognized  as  essentially  new.  For  the  old 
religion  was  the  worship  of  the  Herakles-like  popular 
divinity,  but  in  the  epic  Krishna  is  represented  as  having 
but  recently  made  claim  to  be  the  avatar  of  the  Supreme 
God,  a claim  not  yet  wholly  recognized  by  other  epic  charac- 
ters and  one  which  Krishna  himself  naively  says  is  admitted 
only  by  a few  persons.  It  is  therefore  of  peculiar  interest  to 
find  that  there  is  a close  parallel  between  the  words  of  this 
Krishna  and  those  of  Christ’s  disciples.  The  question  natur- 
ally arises  whether  the  Gita,  which  contains  these  parallels, 
has  been  affected  by  Christian  influences  or  has  itself  affected 
the  New  Testament. 

When  this  question  was  first  broached,  it  was  answered 
with  some  lack  of  critical  discrimination.  Those  who  held 
that  the  Gita  was  original  referred  the  New  Testament 
parallels  to  this  “ancient  Upanishad;”  while  their  oppo- 
nents neglected  the  data  of  history.  I will  speak  first  of 
the  latter,  who  exaggerated  the  modernity  of  Krishnaism. 

For  both  the  antecedents  of  the  religion  were  overlooked 
and  that  which  is  universal  in  the  parallelism  was  ignored. 
Thus  it  was  said  that  Krishnaism  in  this  form  presented 
the  first  instance  in  Hindu  religion  of  bhakti,  loving-devotion 
or  faith  like  ay aV^,  and  consequently  this  idea  was  thought 
to  be  drawn  from  Christianity.  Now  it  is  true  that  the 
word  bliakti  scarcely  occurs  before  the  epic  and  does  not 
occur  at  all  in  the  Krishnaite  sense  before  the  epic,  for 
though  it  is  found  in  one  late  Upanishad,  yet  there  it  is 
not  love  but  devotion  to  a fearful  God  before  whom  “one 
comes  in  fear,”  just  as  in  the  older  Upanishads.  But, 
on  the  other  hand,  although  other  Hindu  religions  had 
nothing  corresponding  to  ayd^,  yet  this  notion  had  long 

well-disposed  to  the  priest’s  employer  (the  king),  and  the  moral  is  the  usual 
one  that  the  king  must  treat  well  a priest  whose  speech  is  so  productive  of 
good  (or  bad,  according  as  the  priest  will). 


CHRIST  IN  INDIA. 


149 


been  a feature  of  Buddhism,  and  the  loving  devotion  to 
the  great  master  who  was  a real  personality  was  simply 
transferred  to  the  sectarian  god,  whose  rise  in  dignity  was 
contemporary  with  the  first  political  rebuff  experienced  by 
Buddhism.  As  in  other  cases,  the  attributes  of  Buddha, 
the  teaching  of  Buddha,  notably  in  a stricter  “non-injury” 
doctrine,  and  perhaps  the  events  of  Buddha’s  life,  were  trans- 
ferred to  the  popular  divinity,  though  formal  Buddhism  is 
argumentatively  rejected  in  the  epic  itself.  Further,  there 
was  a lack  of  perspective  in  these  parallels.  Thus,  such  a 
phrase  as  “ I am  the  letter  A ” as  compared  with  “ I am 
Alpha  and  Omega”  was  cited  as  illustrating  a loan  from 
Christianity,  although  in  one  of  the  oldest  Upanishads, 
centuries  before  Christ,  we  read,1  “ Brahma  is  the  A ” and 
“A  is  the  whole  of  speech  (or  the  word),  and  the  word  is 
truth,  and  truth  is  the  spirit.” 

Then,  again,  many  of  the  parallels  belong  rather  to  the 
class  of  universal  similitudes  such  as  we  find  in  Buddhism 
and  Christianity  ; while  some  are  too  slight  to  deserve  notice, 
such  as,  “ Thou,  God,  alone  knowest  thyself,”  as  compared 
with  “ No  man  hath  seen  God  at  any  time  ; ” or  “ Save  from 
the  sea  of  death,”  as  compared  with  “ Who  shall  save  from  the 
body  of  death  ? ” 

On  these  vague  resemblances,  however  interesting  they  may 
be,  too  much  historical  weight  has  often  been  laid  even  in 
modern  essays,  as  when  the  idea  of  adultery  in  the  heart, 
Matt.  v.  28,  is  compared  with  G.  3,  6 : He  is  called  a hypo- 
crite who,  while  subduing  the  organs  of  sense,  sits  remember- 
ing in  his  mind  the  objects  of  sense ; or  when  the  command 
to  abjure  sin  and  lust,  and  the  statement  that  the  mind  of  the 
flesh  is  enmity  against  God,  Rom.  vi.  12  and  viii.  7,  are  grouped 
together  to  make  a parallel  to  G.  3,  34:  Let  one  not  become 
subject  to  lust  and  hate,  for  they  are  enemies  of  the  soul. 
Some  of  these  “ parallels  ” have  not  even  a remote  connection. 
For  example,  What  shall  I do  to  inherit  eternal  life,  Luke  x.  25 
(this  do  and  thou  shalt  live),  has  actually  been  “ paralleled  ” 
1 The  references  are  given  in  my  Religions  of  India,  p.  226. 


150 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


with  G.  4, 16  (I  will  tell  thee  the  act  by  knowing  which  thou 
shalt  be  freed  from  evil),  although  the  answer  of  the  former 
passage  is  not  even  suggested  in  the  latter.  Such  a “ parallel  ” 
is  in  truth  merely  an  historical  impertinence. 

Moreover,  we  must  not  forget  how  remarkably  similar  may 
he  by  mere  chance  the  phraseology  of  different  religions.  This 
point  too  may  be  illustrated  here,  lest  it  be  overlooked  in 
making  an  estimate  of  the  parallels  between  Krishnaism  and 
Christianity.  For  this  purpose  I choose  a few  verses  of  the 
Rig  Veda  and  compare  with  them  Old  Testament  verses  that 
cannot  be  suspected  of  having  been  either  their  source  or 
their  copy : 

R.  V.  His  own  works  witness  to  his  might  and  wisdom, 

Who  fashioned  firm  supports  for  earth  and  heaven, 

Who  set  on  high  the  firmament  uplifted, 

And  fixed  the  stars,  and  spread  out  earth’s  expanses.  — 
vii.  86,  1. 

O.  T . He  that  made  the  earth  by  his  power,  he  hath  established 
the  world  by  his  wisdom  and  hath  stretched  out  the 
heavens  by  his  discretion.  — Is.  xliv.  24. 

R.  V.  He  mingled  with  the  clouds  his  cooling  breezes, 

He  gave  the  cow  her  milk,  the  horse  his  vigor, 

He  in  the  heart  put  wisdom,  in  clouds  the  lightning.  — 
v.  85,  2. 

0.  T.  Hast  thou  given  the  horse  strength  . . . given  under- 
standing to  the  heart.  — Job  xxxix.  19 ; xxxviii.  36. 

R.  V.  Do  not  punish  us  according  to  our  sin,  whether  we  sinned 
consciously  like  gamblers,  or  unconsciously.  . . . Whatso- 
ever evil  we  have  committed  . . . forgive  us.  — v.  85, 
5-7 ; vii.  88,  6. 

0.  T.  Remember  not  against  us  former  iniquities.  . . . Cleanse 
thou  me  from  secret  faults.  — Ps.  lxxix.  8 ; xix.  13. 

R.  V.  He  knows  the  track  of  the  birds  flying  in  the  air,  he 
knows  the  ships  upon  the  sea.  — i.  25,  7. 

0.  T.  The  way  of  an  eagle  in  the  air  . . . of  a ship  in  the  midst 
of  the  sea.  — Prov.  xxx.  18. 


CHRIST  IN  INDIA. 


151 


Here,  then,  we  find  Isaiah,  Job,  David,  and  Solomon  using 
almost  the  same  language  with  that  of  the  V edic  poets ; an 
object  lesson  on  the  danger  of  drawing  rash  conclusions  from 
parallel  phrases.  So  in  story,  both  in  the  Old  Testament  and 
the  Rig  Veda,  the  divinity  is  lauded  as  having  made  the  sun 
stand  still  in  the  heavens,  changing  night  to  day,  and  as 
having  overwhelmed  his  enemies  in  a flood  and  given  passage 
through  the  flood  to  his  worshippers  ; as  may  be  seen  by  con- 
sulting the  parallels  cited  in  Ivaegi's  Rig  Veda,  pp.  63  ff., 
where  also  are  collected  not  only  the  citations  just  given,  but 
many  more  like  them.1  The  Gita  itself  has  a few  parallels 
with  the  Old  Testament : As  a man  puts  off  old  garments  and 
takes  others  that  are  new,  so  leaving  the  old  bodies  the 
(unchanging)  spirit  enters  others  that  are  new,  G.  2,  22 ; All 
of  them  shall  wax  old  like  a garment ; as  a vesture  shalt  thou 
change  them,  Ps.  cii.  26 ; Lay  aside  all  works  upon  me,  G.  3, 
30  ; Cast  thy  burden  upon  the  Lord,  Ps.  lv.  22. 

But  even  granting  the  force  of  the  warning  I have  just 
given,  we  may  yet  doubt  whether  chance  can  be  made  respon- 
sible for  all  the  parallels  between  the  Gita  and  the  New 
Testament,  especially  when  the  important  fact  is  noticed  that 
these  parallels  are  not  drawn,  as  in  the  case  of  the  Rig  Veda 
and  Old  Testament,  or  in  that  of  the  whole  Buddhistic  liter- 
ature as  compared  with  all  the  early  Christian  literature,  from 
a voluminous  body  of  writings,  but  that  they  are  crowded 
together  into  one  short  Hindu  poem,  and,  for  the  more 
part,  into  one  gospel. 

For,  in  exploiting  all  possible  Gita  parallels  with  the  New 
Testament,  Lorinser,  who  wrote  on  this  subject  thirty  years 
ago,  cited  every  verse  and  phrase  containing  the  remotest 
resemblance.  But  if  we  exclude  such  unconvincing  examples 
as  make  a large  part  of  Lorinser’s  collection,  as  when  Love 
your  enemies  is  paralleled  by  a recommendation  to  be  “ indiffer- 

1 On  the  other  hand,  Solomon’s  Judgment  in  the  Tibetan  version,  instanced 
by  Muller  in  his  Coincidences,  is  more  probably  a loan,  as  it  is  unknown  in 
Buddhist  literature  till  centuries  after  the  country  was  entered  by  Christian 
missionaries. 


152 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


ent  to  friend  and  foe,”  Matt.  v.  44,  G.  6,  9 ; or  as  when  Pra}^ 
in  the  closet  is  paralleled  by  a recommendation  that  one  should 
stand  in  a deserted  place  when  practising  Yoga  concentration, 
Matt.  vi.  6,  G.  6,  10  ; or  as  when  the  mere  word  “ rain  ” in  the 
expression,  Rain  on  the  just  and  unjust,  is  made  the  base  of  a 
comparison  with  the  words  of  the  Supreme  Being,  who  says:  I 
glow  (as  the  sun),  I hold  back  and  let  out  the  rain,  Matt.  v. 
45,  G.  9,  19  ; if  we  exclude  these,  and  take  up  the  really 
striking  parallels,  we  shall  find  that  with  the  exception  of 
Be  of  good  cheer,  thy  sins  are  forgiven,  as  compared  with 
Come  to  me  as  thy  refuge,  I will  release  thee  from  all  thy  sins  ; 
grieve  not  (in  Matt.  ix.  2,  and  G.  18,  66,  respectively),  which 
are  rather  similar,  almost  all  the  close  parallels  to  the  Gita 
are  found  not  in  the  Synoptic  Gospels  but  in  John.  Those 
from  the  Synoptic  Gospels  are  all  of  the  class  just  referred  to, 
or  are  made  by  combination,  as  when  All  ye  that  labor  and 
are  heavy  laden,  Matt.  xi.  28,  is  joined  to  xi.  5,  The  poor  have 
the  gospel  preached  to  them,  and  then  again  to  John  xviii. 
37,  Every  one  that  is  of  the  truth  heareth  my  voice,  to  make  as 
a whole  a parallel  to  “ four  kinds  of  men  ” who  in  the  Gita  7, 
16,  are  said  to  worship  Krishna  ; namely,  the  oppressed,  the  one 
desiring  wisdom,  the  needy,  and  the  wise.  I give  a list  of 
these  passages,  however,  wdthout  further  remark  on  their 
appositeness,  that  it  may  be  seen  just  how  the  theory  stands  in 
its  exaggerated  as  well  as  real  strength,  though  even  in  such 
a list  I cannot  bring  myself  to  admit  absurdities  and  so  must 
refuse  to  include,  Let  one  elevate  himself  through  himself, 
Gita  6,  5,  as  paralleled  in  any  way  with  Let  one  deny  himself, 
Matt.  xvi.  24.1  As  “ parallels  ” in  the  Synoptic  Gospels  are 
cited : 

Matt.  vii.  14,  Narrow  is  the  gate,  and  few  there  be  that  find 
it ; G.  7,  3,  Among  thousands  of  men  (scarcely)  one  strives 
for  perfection  ; even  of  those  striving  to  be  perfect  (scarcely) 
one  knows  me  truly ; and  G.  9,  11,  They  know  me  not. 

1 The  Sanskrit  word  is  uddharet,  and  Lorinser  suggests  that  it  may  mean 
“withdraw but  it  means  simply  “raise,”  as  is  clear  from  the  antithetic 
context,  “ let  one  not  lower  himself,”  avasadayet. 


CHRIST  IX  INDIA. 


153 


Closer  is  John,  i.  10,  The  world  knew  him  not.  Matt.  xxiv. 
35,  Heaven  and  earth  pass  away,  but  my  words  shall  not  pass 
away ; G.  8,  20,  He  who  is  not  destroyed  when  all  beings  are 
destroyed;  ib.  9,  2 (in  the  secret  purifying  knowledge), 
imperishable , and  easy  to  perform  (with  which  is  also  com- 
pared, My  burden  is  light,  Matt.  xi.  30).  Matt.  xxii.  37, 
With  all  thy  heart  and  all  thy  mind;  G.  9,  13,  Knowing 
me  as  the  imperishable  source  of  beings,  they  love  me  with- 
out having  the  mind  on  anything  else.  Matt.  xvi.  16, 
Peter's  confession  of  faith,  is  compared  with  that  of  Krishna’s 
friend,  who  in  G.  10,  12,  says  that  Krishna  is  Brahman,  the 
highest  goal,  and  unborn  primeval  God  and  Lord.  Matt, 
xvii.  2,  and  Mark  ix.  3,  the  transfiguration,  are  compared 
with  G.  11,  12,  where  Krishna  reveals  himself  in  the  glory  of 
a thousand  suns.  After  the  apocalypse  Jesus  said,  Be  not 
afraid  (xvii.  7),  and  Krishna  “reassured  him  frightened” 
(12,  50).  The  description  in  Matt.  xi.  19,  and  Luke  v.  33, 
(came  eating  and  drinking)  is  compared  with  the  definition 
of  a true  Yogin  as  one  who  neither  eats  too  much  nor  not  at 
all,  G.  6,  16  (Buddhistic).  The  Beatitudes,  Matt.  v.  3-10, 
are  compared  with  G.  12,  13-19,  which  has  the  refrain,  He 
who  loves  me  (or  is  devoted  to  me)  is  dear  to  me,  with  a list 
of  descriptive  adjectives  applied  to  the  word  “he”  and  imply- 
ing condition : If  without  hate,  kindly,  merciful,  unselfish,  with- 
out egoism,  alike  in  weal  and  woe,  patient,  contented,  always 
restrained,  of  subdued  nature,  firm  in  resolution,  and  having 
thought  and  mind  fixed  on  me,  — he  who  is  devoted  to  me  is 
dear  to  me  ; he  (refrain)  whom  the  world  fears  not,  who  is 
not  disturbed  by  joy,  anger,  or  fear,  who  is  unconcerned, 
pure,  assiduous,  indifferent,  who  desires  not  the  fruit  of  his 
action,  who  neither  joys  nor  hates  nor  sorrows  nor  desires, 
who  is  unaffected  by  pleasure  or  pain  (refrain)  ; he  who  is 
equal-minded  toward  foe  and  friend,  honor  and  dishonor, 
cold,  heat,  pleasure,  and  pain,  devoid  of  affections,  the  same 
in  blame  or  praise,  silent,  content  with  anything,  homeless, 
firm-minded,  — such  an  one  devoted  to  me  is  dear  to  me.  In 
Matt.  xvi.  26,  Lose  his  soul  (as  a phrase)  is  compared  with 


154 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


G.  13,  28,  He  that  recognizes  the  Lord  (in  truth)  does  not 
destroy  his  soul,  but  he  attains  the  highest  course.  With 
Mark  xvi.  16,  He  that  disbelieveth  shall  be  condemned,  is 
compared  G.  4,  40,  He  that  is  ignorant,  he  that  has  no  faith, 
he  of  doubting  soul,  is  destroyed.  The  widow’s  mite,  Mark 
xii.  42,  Luke  xxi.  2,  is  compared  with  G.  9,  26,  I accept 
what  is  offered  to  me  with  loving  devotion,  be  it  but  a leaf, 
a flower,  a fruit,  or  water.  Christ  had  compassion  on  the 
multitude,  Mark  viii.  2 ; Krishna,  G.  10,  11,  through  com- 
passion destroys  the  darkness  of  ignorance  with  the  light  of 
the  lamp  of  knowledge ; where  the  parallel  is  closer  with 
2 Cor.  iv.  6,  God  said  light  shall  shine  out  of  darkness, 
who  shined  in  our  hearts  to  give  the  light  of  the  knowledge 
of  the  glory  of  God  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ,  as  in  the  next 
verse  of  the  Gita  (or  again  in  4,  38),  the  knowledge  is  a 
purification,  pavitram,  as  it  is  said  in  Titus  ii.  14,  That  he 
might  purify  unto  himself  a people.  In  Luke  xiv.  33,  Who- 
soever renounceth  not  all  his  belongings  cannot  be  my  disci- 
ple, iracn  toZ?  eavrov  vTrap^ovaiv  is  represented  as  the  exact 
equivalent  of  the  phrase  in  G.  4,  21,  He  sins  not  who,  having 
renounced  all  his  belongings,  is  of  restrained  mind  and 
senses  ( tyaktasarvaparigraliah ).2  In  Luke  xiv.  26,  If  any 

man  hateth  not,  etc.;  in  G.  13,  9,  Attachment  to  son,  wife, 
home  and  such  objects  (must  be  abandoned). 

In  Rev.  xxi.  23-24,  And  (the  celestial  city)  has  no  need 
of  the  sun,  neither  of  the  moon  to  shine  upon  it ; for  the 
glory  of  God  did  lighten  it ; in  G.  15,  6,  12  (In  my  imperish- 
able home),  there  shines  no  sun,  nor  moon,  nor  fire.  ...  It  is 
my  glory  that  is  in  the  sun,  that  illumines  the  world,  the 
moon,  and  fire.  But  this  notion,  however  parallel,  is  older 
than  the  Gita  and  is  found  in  the  Upanishads.  So  also  with 
the  phrase  in  Rom.  xii.  1,  Present  your  bodies  a living  sac- 
rifice, and  G.  4,  26,  Sacrifice  the  senses  in  the  fire  of  self- 
control,  for  this  is  an  ancient  Upanishad  image. 

From  the  Epistles  the  closest  parallel  is  found  in  1 Cor. 

1 Lorinser  and  others  compare  also  atyartham  inG.  7, 17,  translating  “more 
than  goods,”  but  the  word  means  “ exceedingly.” 


CHRIST  IN  INDIA. 


155 


x.  31,  Whether  ye  eat  or  drink  or  whatsoever  ye  do,  do  all  to 
the  glory  of  God,  as  compared  with  G.  9,  27,  Whatsoever 
thou  doest,  whatsoever  thou  eatest,  whatsoever  thou  offerest 
in  sacrifice,  whatsoever  thou  givest,  do  all  as  if  it  were  to 
me.  The  expression  in  James  ii.  8,  Fulfil  the  royal  law,  has 
also  been  compared  with  G.  9,  2,  where  Krishna’s  “ secret 
wisdom  ” is  called  the  royal  secret  and  royal  wisdom,  raja- 
vidya.  So  Eph.  iv.  18,  Darkened  in  their  understanding  . . . 
because  of  ignorance,  and  G.  5,  15,  Their  understanding  is 
covered  by  reason  of  ignorance ; which  is  antithetic  to  G.  5, 
16,  The  understanding  which  like  a sun  illuminates  the 
highest  (compare  The  light  of  the  knowledge  of  the  glory  of 
God,  2 Cor.  iv.  6). 

There  is  certainly  enough  parallelism  in  these  passages  to 
suggest  the  notion  that  the  phrases  are  not  similar  by  acci- 
dent, yet  if  it  were  for  these  alone  the  theory  of  borrowing 
could  be  answered  by  the  objections  already  made  to  a too 
facile  explanation  of  such  cases.  But  when  we  turn  to 
John  we  find  in  brief  compass  so  large  a number  of  paral- 
lels, some  of  which  are  surprisingly  close,  that,  taken  in 
connection  with  the  more  general  cases  in  the  other  gospels, 
they  present  a body  of  evidence  that  is,  I think,  almost  con- 
clusive in  favor  of  one  of  the  religions  having  borrowed  from 
the  other.  Thus  : 

All  things  were  made  by  him,  John  i.  3 ; All  things  have 
their  source  in  me.  It  is  by  me  that  the  universe  is  created 
and  destroyed,  G.  7,  6-8.  There  was  the  true  light,  John  i. 
10  ; I am  the  light  of  moon  and  sun,  G.  loc.  cit.  Without 
him  was  not  anything  made,  John  i.  3 ; I am  the  seed,  with- 
out me  is  nothing  made,  G.  10,  39.  The  world  was  made  by 
him,  and  the  world  knew  him  not.  He  came  unto  his  own, 
and  they  that  were  his  own  received  him  not,  John  i.  10-11 ; 
Men  distraught  know  me  not  in  my  godly  nature  ; I take  a 
human  form  and  they  honor  me  not,  G.  9,  11.  Whosoever 
believeth  in  him  shall  not  perish,  John  iii.  15 ; He  that 
believeth  in  me  doth  not  perish,  G.  9,  31.  My  father  work- 
eth  even  until  now,  and  I work,  John  v.  17 ; There  is  nothing 


156 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


for  me  to  attain  and  yet  I remain  at  work,  G.  3,  22.  (The 
scriptures)  are  they  that  bear  witness  of  me,  John  v.  39;  By 
all  the  Vedas  I am  to  be  known,  G.  15,  15.  Every  one  that 
. . . hath  learned  cometh  unto  me,  John  vi.  45  ; They  that 
worship  me  come  unto  me,  G.  9,  25.  I know  whence  I came, 
...  but  ye  know  not,  John  viii.  14;  I have  come  through 
many  births  and  thou  also ; I know  them  all,  thou  knowest 
them  not,  G.  4,  5.  If  a man  keep  my  word  he  shall  never 
see  death ; whosoever  liveth  and  believeth  on  me  shall  never 
die,  John  viii.  51;  xi.  26;  They  that  trust  in  me  come  to 
escape  age  and  death,  G.  7,  29 ; also,  He  that  truly  knows 
my  divine  birth  and  work,  on  casting  off  this  body  is  not 
born  again  but  comes  to  me,  G.  4,  9.  The  Jews  therefore 
said  unto  him,  Thou  art  not  yet  fifty  years  old  and  hast 
thou  seen  Abraham?  John  viii.  57  ; (He  said  to  Krishna) 
Thy  birth  is  later,  earlier  was  the  birth  of  Vivasvat;  how 
then  may  I understand  that  thou  hast  declared  this  in  the 
beginning?  G.  4,  4.  I am  the  way,  and  the  truth,  and  the 
life,  John  xiv.  6 ; I am  the  way  . . . the  refuge,  the  friend, 
life  and  death,  the  support,  the  treasure,  the  eternal  seed, 
G.  9,  18. 

Compare  also  Rev.  i.  17-19,  I am  the  first  and  the  last 
and  the  living  one.  I hold  the  keys  of  life  and  death ; 
ib.  xxii.  13,  Alpha  and  Omega;  with  G.  10,  32-34,  I am  the 
beginning,  the  middle,  and  the  end,  the  wisdom  of  all  wis- 
dom, the  speech  of  them  that  speak,  the  letter  A among  the 
letters,  time  imperishable,  the  Creator,  death  and  life.  Also 
the  phraseology,  Ye  in  me  and  I in  you,  John  xiv.  20  (so  vi. 
56  and  xvii.  20-23) ; In  him  we  live  and  move  and  have 
our  being,  Acts  xvii.  28  (Phainomena) ; In  him  are  all  crea- 
tures, all  is  pervaded  by  him,  G.  8,  22;  If  any  worship  me 
in  loving  devotion,  they  are  in  me  and  I in  them,1  G.  9,  29. 
Also  John  xiv.  21,  He  that  loveth  me  ...  I shall  love 
him,  and  G.  4,  11,  I love  them  that  are  devoted  to  me,  even 

1 In  the  imitation  of  the  Gita  found  in  the  fifth  book  of  the  epic  it  is  said 
by  the  Supreme:  “ I am  the  father  and  the  son  ; ye  abide  in  me,  but  ye  are 
not  of  me  nor  am  I of  you,"  v.  46,  29  (C.  t.  1.) 


CHRIST  IN  INDIA. 


157 


as  they  to  me,  so  I to  them  (also  7,  17,  He  is  dear  to  me). 
In  the  same  chapter,  with  the  thought  already  illustrated 
above,  we  find,  The  world  beholdeth  him  not,  neither  knoweth 
him,  John  xiv.  17,  compared  with,  I am  not  beheld  of  all  . . . 
the  world  knows  me  not,  G.  7,  25.  To  this  end  have  I 
been  born  and  to  this  end  have  I come  into  the  world,  that 
I should  bear  witness  unto  the  truth.  . . . That  the  world 
might  be  saved,  John  xviii.  37  and  iii.  17 ; I am  born  age 
after  age  for  the  saving  of  the  good,  the  destruction  of 
evil-doers,  and  for  the  sake  of  establishing  virtue,  G.  4,  8. 
Compare  also  John  xvii.  3,  This  is  life  eternal  that  they 
should  know  thee,  the  only  true  God,  and  him  whom  thou 
didst  send,  with  G.  10,  3,  He  who  knows  me,  the  Lord  of  the 
world,  is  freed  from  all  sins  (i.  e.  gets  life  eternal). 

It  seems  to  me  that  the  parallels  here  given  are  almost  too 
close  in  thought  as  in  diction  to  have  sprung  from  two 
independent  sources.  But,  as  has  been  said,  in  attempting  to 
answer  the  question  which  work  has  borrowed  there  has  not 
been  entire  unanimity.  Some  scholars  point  to  the  fact  that 
the  Gita  is  in  Upanishad  form,  and  contains  old  Upanishad 
material,  that  it  is  an  antique  part  of  the  epic,  and  that  the 
epic  existed  before  our  era.  The  fact  that  the  most  striking 
parallels,  as  in  the  case  of  the  Buddhistic  parallels,  are  found 
in  John,  naturally  suggests  also  that  this  gospel  has  been  the 
borrower.  On  the  other  hand,  there  are  several  considerations 
tending  to  modify  these  statements,  which  are  true,  enough  in 
a general  way,  but  they  do  not  allow  for  several  ignored  facts. 
In  the  first  place,  Upanishads  may  be  of  any  age  from  600  B.c. 
onward,  and  sectarian  Upanishads  are  uniformly  late.  Then 
the  metre  and  language  of  the  Gita  are  such  as  to  make  it 
impossible  to  connect  it  closely  in  time  with  the  ancient  Upan- 
ishads even  in  its  oldest  parts,  and  it  has  besides  two  differ- 
ent parts,  one  of  which  is  later  than  the  other,  so  that  it  is 
pretty  clear  that  it  has  been  rewritten.  But  above  all,  not 
only  is  the  religion  as  inculcated,  with  its  devotion  not  to  a 
stern  master,  but  to  a sin-forgiving,  love-demanding  savior- 
god  in  human  form,  something  absolutely  unique  up  to  the 


158 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


time  it  appears,  but  it  is  acknowledged  also  both  by  friend  and 
foe  in  the  epic  narrative  itself  that  Krishna  is  a new  form  of 
God  (not  a new  god,  for  Krishna  had  long  been  a popular 
god),  and  that  the  new  religion  has  as  yet  few  adherents. 
When  these  facts  are  weighed  together  with  the  fact  that 
the  epic  as  we  have  it  is  at  most  not  more  than  two  hundred 
years  older  than  the  Christian  era,  and  that  it  is  almost  certain 
that  parts  of  it  are  as  late  as  two  or  perhaps  more  centuries 
after  our  era,  it  seems  possible  that  the  original  Gita,  which 
was  without  doubt  composed  at  least  200  b.  c.,  and  appears 
to  have  been  at  first  a Yogin  tract  simply,  was  affected  by  the 
introduction  of  a new  religious  spirit 1 and  that  it  absorbed 
some  of  the  ideas  presented  in  the  form  most  Oriental  and 
nearest  to  Hindu  conceptions ; namely,  in  the  fourth  Gospel. 

The  most  reasonable  explanation  of  the  data  as  a whole 
appears  to  me  to  be  that  the  fourth  gospel,  perhaps  not 
uninfluenced  by  the  Gnosticism  of  the  time,  but  not  neces- 
sarily influenced  by  Buddhistic  tradition  or  by  any  Sanskrit 
texts,  was  of  a mystical  tone  that  made  it  peculiarly  suitable 
to  influence  the  Hindu  divines,  who  transferred  from  it  such 
phrases  and  sentiments  as  best  fitted  in  with  the  conception 
of  Krishna  as  a god  of  love.  For  it  must  be  remembered 
constantly  that  before  Krishna’s  advent  in  his  new  rdle , those 
characteristics  of  Krishna  that  bring  him  into  closest  likeness 
with  Christ  are  entirely  lacking  in  the  conception  of  any 
previous  Hindu  divinity.  Buddha  never  pretended  to  for- 
give sin,  and  no  old  Upanishad  suggests  that  the  grace  of  the 
divinity  does  more  than  elect  a servitor.  But  suddenly  there 
appears  this  benign  man-god,  who  proclaims  that  all  sins  are 
forgiven  to  him  who  believes  in  Krishna ; and  that,  though 
those  who  believe  in  him  are  very  few  in  number,  yet  this 
new  religion  of  love  and  faith  is  better  than  the  old  Brah- 

1 A fact  of  some  importance,  to  be  set  beside  Megasthenes’  distinction 
between  a great  god  Dionysos  (Qiva)  and  a demi-god  Herakles  (Krishna),  is 
that  Krishna  is  unknown  in  the  older  Buddhistic  literature,  which  could 
scarcely  have  ignored  him  (in  favor  of  Brahman)  if  he  was  already  a great 
god. 


CHRIST  IN  INDIA. 


159 


manic  religion  of  works  and  ceremonial  purity.  I admit  freely 
that  on  a first  superficial  glance  at  the  relations  between  John 
and  the  Synoptic  Gospels  on  the  one  hand  and  John  and  the 
Hindu  texts  on  the  other,  the  easiest  solution  seems  to  be 
that  John  has  borrowed  from  the  East ; but  I think  a closer 
acquaintance  with  the  position  of  the  Gita  in  relation  to  other 
Hindu  texts  and  a due  recognition  not  only  of  the  very  im- 
portant admissions  made  by  this  “ new  religion  ” itself,  but 
also  of  the  two  factors  to  which  I have  already  called  your 
attention,  namely,  the  early  influence  of  Christian  missions 
and  the  very  doubtful  age  of  all  old  Hindu  texts,  will  tend 
to  make  careful  scholars  still  more  careful  not  to  join  the 
ranks  of  those  who  announce,  apparently  without  taking 
any  of  these  points  into  consideration,  that  the  Gospel  came 
from  India. 

In  other  respects  also,  the  language  and  tales  of  the 
later  epic  suggest  the  possibility  of  Christian  influence  quite 
as  much  as  Christian  tales  suggest  Indian  influence.  I 
lay  no  great  weight  on  them,  but  they  should  be  known, 
if  only  as  a companion-piece  to  what  is  found  in  the  West 
and  referred  to  the  East.  Krishna  is  a by-name  of  Yyasa, 
the  author  of  the  epic  (in  so  far  as  the  arranger  of  the 
mass  may  be  called  author),  who,  though  not  identified  with 
Krishna  as  Supreme  God,  is  himself  divine,  and  is  described 
as  “ the  unborn  (that  is,  the  eternal)  and  ancient  one,  the 
only  son  of  God,  born  of  a virgin,  very  part,  anpa,  of  God.”1 
He  is  a figure  unknown  till  the  end  of  the  epic,  and  even 
his  name  Vyasas,  vyasas,  has  a certain  similarity  with  iesos. 
Then  of  the  god  Krishna  it  is  said : “ He,  the  guardian  of  his 
flock,  the  sinless  God,  the  Lord  of  the  world,  consented 
to  the  death  of  (himself  and)  his  race  that  he  might  fulfil  the 
word  of  the  seers,”  where,  if  we  had  shepherd  and  prophets, 
the  comparison  would  be  very  striking.2  Another  passage 
not  connected  with  the  Gita,  but  close  to  biblical  phraseology, 
may  be  found  in  the  description  of  the  avenging  spirits: 


i Mbh.,  xii.  350,  4,  5,  51. 


2 Mbh.,  xvi.  6, 15-16. 


160 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


“If  thou  goest  into  the  depths  of  the  earth,  or  if  thou 
shouldst  fly  above,  or  if  thou  fleest  to  the  further  side 
of  the  sea,  still  thou  shalt  find  no  escape  from  them  ” ; as 
compared  with  the  Psalmist’s  words,  “ Whither  shall  I fly 
. . . into  heaven  . . . Sheol  . . . the  uttermost  parts  of  the 
sea  ? ” 1 Compare  also  “ I am  not  crying  in  the  wilderness,” 
followed  by,  “ Thou  seest  the  faults  of  others,  though  they 
be  no  larger  than  mustard,  but  thine  own  faults  thou  canst 
not  see,  though  they  be  as  large  as  a bilva  (tree).”  2 As  these 
comparisons  have  not,  I think,  been  noticed  before,  I give 
them  for  what  they  are  worth.  Even  the  crucifixion  has  its 
analogy  in  the  story  of  the  Stake-saint  (impaling  being  the 
equivalent  of  crucifixion),  who  was  unjustly  impaled  -with 
thieves,  but  he  did  not  die  like  the  thieves  and  so  awakened 
the  wonder  of  the  royal  guard.  They  went  and  told  the 
king,  who  was  frightened  when  he  heard  of  it  and  came 
to  the  Saint  on  the  Stake  and  besought  his  forgiveness, 
which  was  granted,  as  the  king  had  acted  ignorantly.  He 
is  besung  in  all  the  worlds  as  the  Impaled  One.3  But  all  the 
rest  of  the  stoty  is  grotesque.  It  is  perhaps  not  impossible 
that  there  is  here  the  echo  of  Christian  story. 

A curious  historical  sketch  in  the  epic  relates  that  the  cult 
of  Krishna  as  one  God  was  introduced  after  the  notion  of 
Unitarianism  had  been  gained  by  three  pilgrims,  who  went 
to  an  Albion  in  the  Northwest  and  there  found  this  religion 
practised  by  White  Men.  Professor  Weber,  despite  the 
repeated  statement  that  the  White  Island  was  located  in 
the  extreme  North  or  Northwest,  referred  this  to  Alexan- 
dria, and  all  sorts  of  suppositions  have  been  made  in  regard 
to  the  locality,  the  three  sages  being  identified  with  the 
Three  Wise  Men  of  the  East,  and  the  Northwest  being 
referred  to  every  Western  land  from  Parthia  to  Rome.  The 
legend  is  late  and  an  obvious  intrusion  into  the  epic.  It 
lays  stress  on  the  Unity  of  God,  rather  than  on  the  All-god 
idea,  though  the  latter  is,  of  course,  not  given  up,  and 

1 Mbh.,  iv.  14,  50  (also  late  in  the  epic) ; Ps.  cxxxix.  7 ff. 

3 Mbh.,  i.  74,  35,  82.  3 Mbh.,  i.  107  and  108. 


C HB  1ST  IN  INDIA. 


1G1 


the  devotees  of  Krishna  who  insist  on  this  idea  call  them- 
selves eJcdntinas,  or  Unitarians.  For  myself,  I am  more 
inclined  to  believe  that  the  (^ivaite  faith  of  Kashmere  (a  phi- 
losophical deism)  is  here  recast  into  Vishnuite  form ; for  the 
sea  to  which  the  pilgrims  come  is  merely  the  mythical  milk- 
sea  of  the  Himalayas,  and  Kashmere  men  are  almost  white 
as  compared  with  Hindus.  The  doctrine  taught  shows  no 
trace  of  Christianity,  but  only  of  a belief  in  One  God.  Yet 
it  is  possible  that,  as  the  section  is  very  likely  not  earlier 
than  the  fourth  or  fifth  century  of  our  era,  a pilgrimage 
may  have  been  made  to  Herat  or  Merv,  where  there  were 
already  at  that  time  Christian  bishops.1 11 

But  it  will  be  asked,  Is  there  any  warrant  for  supposing  that 
Krishnaism  is  a religion  which  would  absorb  Christian  ideas  ? 

As  I have  said  already,  the  Hindus  have  always  been 
exceedingly  liberal  in  religious  opinion.  Sub-sects  quarrelled 
about  minute  differences,  but  between  the  great  bodies,  Bud- 
dhists, Vishnuites,  ^ivaites,  there  was  an  easy  tolerance.  Side 
by  side  in  amity  dwelt  the  most  diverse  faiths,  and  Hindu 
emperors  have  often  professed  two  religions  at  once.  It  was 
recognized  that  creed  was  an  intellectual  matter,  and  a differ- 
ence of  religion  was  like  a difference  in  philosophy.  Thus, 
amicably  consorting,  the  Hindus  borrowed  from  each  other 
both  rites  and  ideas.  A new  religion  was  a matter  of  interest 
rather  than  of  hatred,  and  what  was  deemed  good  in  it  was 
quietly  accepted.  So  we  find  that  Buddhism  borrowed  from 
Hinduism,  Hinduism  in  turn  from  Buddhism,  and  both  prob- 
ably from  Christianity,  just  as  the  Aryans,  ever  since  they 
settled  in  India,  have  borrowed  all  sorts  of  religious  notions 
from  un-Aryan  peoples. 

We  are  by  no  means  obliged,  however,  to  rely  on  gener- 
alizations in  support  of  the  statement  that  Krishnaism  would 

1 As  Krishna  in  the  Gita  says  that  there  are  very  few  who  acknowledge 
him  to  be  the  Supreme  God,  so  it  is  expressly  stated  that  these  Unitarians 
are  few  in  number,  xii.  349,  62.  Such  repeated  admissions  only  bear  out  the 
belief,  otherwise  well  supported,  that  Krishnaism  in  the  Gita  and  ekantin 
forms  are  two  late  developments,  though  the  latter  is  the  later. 

11 


162 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


naturally  be  influenced  by  Christianity.  In  the  first  place,  it 
was  of  all  Hindu  religions  the  one  which  contained  elements 
most  likely  to  expose  it  to  Christian  influence.  Buddhism 
was  a godless,  soulless  religion ; Ckvaism  was  a religion  of 
rites  and  austerities.  But  Krishnaism  in  its  popular  form 
was  a religion  of  joy.  It  discountenanced  bloody  sacrifice  and 
inculcated  love.  It  needed  only  the  safeguard  of  moral 
cleanliness  to  turn  this  love,  which  in  a native  form  tended 
to  voluptuousness,  into  a refining  influence,  and  fit  the  devotee 
of  Krishna  to  appreciate  the  tenets  of  Christianity. 

Yet  to  show  not  only  that  Krishnaism  was  a religion  likely 
to  be  affected  by  Christianity,  but  that  it  actually  was  so 
affected,  and  that  it  did  borrow  from  the  latter  religion,  we 
must  advance  from  the  ever  dubious  dates  of  epic  episode  to 
a later  period  in  the  history  of  both  cults.1 

After  the  great  epic  come  the  Puranas,  pur  anas , some  of 
which  may  be  in  part  as  old  as  the  later  sections  of  the  epic. 
Most  of  the  Puranas,  however,  follow  in  the  wake  of  the  epic, 
and,  although  some  of  them  inculcate  the  worship  of  (^Jiva, 
are  especially  devoted  to  the  praise  of  Krishna. 

But  in  these  works  as  they  appear  in  their  later  form  a 
sudden  transformation  takes  place  in  the  character  of  the  god 
Krishna.  Not  only  is  he  now  always  recognized  as  identical 
with  the  Supreme  God,  but  in  certain  of  the  later  Puranas,  as 
has  been  shown  in  detail  in  the  master-study  made  on  this 
subject  by  Professor  Weber,2  he  is  worshipped  less  as  an 
adult,  a man-god,  than  as  a sort  of  Christ-child.  His  birth- 
day, like  Christmas,  becomes  the  holy  day  of  his  worshippers, 
and  it  is  to  the  Madonna  with  the  Child  that  the  offering  is 

1 Before  leaving  the  older  man-god  Krishna,  a word  may  be  said  in  regard  to 
his  name.  The  crude  notion  that  Krishna  is  a corruption  of  the  name  Christ 
was  easily  dispelled  by  showing  that  Krishna  is  an  ancient  Vedic  poet  and  later 
saint.  So  also  his  attribute  of  Jishnu,  “ victorious,”  is  as  old  as  the  Rig  Veda, 
and  hence  the  form  Jishnu  Krishna  is  only  a chance  collocation  and  of  chance 
likeness  with  the  name  Jesus  Christ,  though  possibly  the  similar  sound  may 
have  led  more  easily  to  the  identification  of  Krishna  with  Christ,  which  is 
found  at  a later  time. 

2 Krishna’s  Janmashtami,  Abh.  Berl.  Ak.  1867,  pp.  217  ff. 


CHRIST  IN  INDIA. 


163 


given,  as  the  whole  rite  and  ceremony  are  in  their  honor. 
The  scene  too  of  Krishna’s  nativity  is  not  only  like  that  of 
Christ’s,  but  in  becoming  so,  it  has  altered  all  the  old  inher- 
ited features  of  the  Krishna  tradition,  which  has  been  re- 
nounced in  favor  of  this  new  presentation.  Krishna  is  no 
longer  heroic  in  birth  as  in  life.  The  place  of  his  nativity 
has  become  a stable,  gokula,  and  his  birth,  which  in  the  older 
tradition  occurred  in  prison  at  a time  of  fear  and  danger,  is 
now  of  peaceful  character.  His  mother  Devaki,  scarcely 
mentioned  in  the  older  tradition,  is  now  represented  as  a 
Madonna  Lactans,  holding  the  infant  Krishna  in  her  arms 
to  her  breast.  This  Krishna  performs  too  the  miracles  of 
Christ,  and  the  events  of  his  life  are  those  of  Christ.  Some 
of  these  traits  are  indeed  antique.  Thus  Krishna’s  killing 
of  Kansa,  the  local  Herod,  is  an  old  heroic  legend  of  the  god. 
But  they  are  now  embellished  with  features  as  utterly  dis- 
similar to  the  old  presentation  of  Krishna’s  personality  as  the 
new  legends  are  unlike  the  old  tradition.  Never  before  this 
time  did  Krishna  appear  in  the  rdle  of  a god  whose  glance 
destroys  sin,  whose  pity  for  his  believing  followers  leads 
him  to  cure  them  of  sickness  by  performing  miracles  in  their 
behalf.  Thus,  beside  the  massacre  of  the  innocents,  there  is 
the  restoration  to  life  of  a woman’s  son,  the  healing  of  a 
cripple,  and  the  pouring  of  a box  of  ointment  over  Krishna, 
— stories  which  agree  with  Christian  tradition  far  more 
closely  than  does  Christian  tradition  with  that  of  Buddhism. 
All  these  stories  are  in  the  later  continuation  of  epic  narra- 
tive, either  in  the  Jaimini  Bharata  or  equally  late  Puranas, 
and  their  modification  of  the  old  legend  is  much  too  sweeping 
to  be  brushed  aside  as  accidental.  The  especial  weight  laid 
upon  the  Child-cult  in  this  worship  of  Krishna,  so  utterly 
opposed  to  that  of  the  older  Krishna-worship,  makes  it  impos- 
sible to  doubt  that  at  least  this  form  of  Krishnaism  derives 
from  a Christian  source. 

Those  points  in  the  connection  of  Krishna  and  Christ 
which  scholars  have  at  times  urged,  but  which  seem  to  be 
without  special  significance,  I have  not  mentioned,  because 


164 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


such  details,  if  not  utilized,  do  not  affect  the  argument,  and  I 
need  say  only  as  regards  them  what  I have  said  before,  that 
exaggerations  will  be  found  on  both  sides.  On  the  other 
hand,  it  would  not  be  fair  to  leave  the  Child-cult  as  here 
presented  without  an  additional  remark  in  respect  of  a dis- 
cussion of  the  subject  by  one  eminent  critic  who,  while 
“ constrained  to  admit  a body  of  common  relations  ” and 
recognizing  that  the  representation  of  the  Madonna  Lactans 
“has  really  been  copied  from  similar  representations  in  Chris- 
tian iconography,”  may  nevertheless  be  thought  to  depreciate 
the  force  of  the  bouleversement  which  has  taken  place  in  the 
whole  Krishna  legend,  and  which  Professor  Weber  in  the 
essay  cited  above  has  very  justly  emphasized.  M.  Barth, 
from  whose  work  on  India’s  religions,  p.  223,  have  been 
taken  the  phrases  just  quoted,  says  that  “ traces  of  Christian 
influence  do  not  appear  with  any  clearness  till  much  later 
(than  the  Krishnaism  of  the  epic)  in  certain  peculiarities  of 
worship ; ” that  is,  as  he  has  previously  explained,  he  does  not 
think  that  all  the  pastoral  effect  in  Ivrishna-worship  is 
modern.  He  instances  as  antique  the  Kansa  legend,  and 
says  that  Devaki  does  not  occupy  a prominent  place  in  the 
worship  of  her  son.  A casual  reading  of  the  page,  however, 
is  likely  to  give  a false  impression.  Part  of  M.  Barth’s 
criticism  is  quite  justified.  As  remarked  above,  the  Kansa 
legend  is  old.  But  we  must  disentangle  the  critique  of  the 
early  connection  of  Christianity  with  the  epic  Krishna  and 
that  of  the  Christ-Child  and  Krishna-Child.  Now,  as  it 
happens,  M.  Barth  is  speaking  of  both  together,  and  his 
discussion  of  the  borrowing  is  concerned  mainly  with  the 
more  dubious  or  older  part.  But,  as  was  perhaps  inevitable 
in  this  grouping,  he  has  so  knit  older  and  later  together  in 
his  critique  as  to  combine  both  in  one  verdict,  where  it  would 
have  been  safer  to  judge  each  separately. 

Thus,  M.  Barth  gives  no  reason  at  all  for  refusing  to 
recognize  the  peculiar  force  of  the  stable-birth  (in  connec- 
tion with  the  Madonna  Lactans)  except  a statement  which 
unites  with  this  factor  another  with  which  this  has  nothing 


CHRIST  IN  INDIA. 


165 


to  do,  namely,  the  pastoral  scenes  of  Krishna  as  a grown  man. 
Taking  both  together  in  one  clause,  he  says  that  “ the  pas- 
toral scenes,  and  the  idea  of  assigning  to  Krishna  a stable  as 
his  cradle,  are  connected  with  the  most  ancient  representa- 
tions of  the  Veda.”  Even  as  regards  the  pastoral  scenes,  this 
is  questionable,  and  as  regards  the  gokula  it  is  a mistake,  if 
the  somewhat  ambiguous  phrase  “ are  connected,”  etc.,  means 
that  the  gokula  is  part  of  Krishna-worship  in  the  Vedic  age. 
But  if  this  last  phrase  means  only  that  the  Vedic  age  had 
cows,  such  a general  asseveration  has  no  bearing  on  the  fact 
that  in  all  the  old  worship  of  Krishna,  as  given  in  the  epic, 
and  in  detail  in  the  older  Puranas,  there  is  no  child- worsliip 
and  no  stable-birth.  Surely  there  is  here  a new  feature,  and 
one  that  cannot  be  shunted  with  the  remark  that  cows  and 
stables,  without  any  bearing  on  Krishna,  are  Vedic.  Then  as 
regards  the  Madonna,  the  remark  of  M.  Barth  cited  above 
is  true  of  the  normal  attitude  taken  toward  the  Mother  in 
the  older  accounts ; but  this  is  the  very  point  of  the  proof,  for 
in  the  texts  devoted  to  the  Child-cult,  the  mother,  on  the 
other  hand,  does  “ occupy  a very  prominent  place.”  It  will 
be  seen,  therefore,  that  the  objection  to  the  derivatiou  of  the 
Child-cult  from  a Christian  source  is  in  part  due  to  uniting 
this  side  of  the  Krishna-cult  with  an  older  and  more  dubious 
phase  of  historical  relationship,  and  that  the  argument  against 
one  of  the  most  important  points  either  has  no  bearing  or  is 
contradicted  by  the  facts.  Even  then  M.  Barth  recog- 
nizes that  the  special  Madonna  Lactans  representation  itself 
is  drawn  from  Christian  sources,  and  I know  of  no  one  else 
who  has  since  cast  any  doubt  on  the  truth  of  a theory 
which,  as  affects  this  later  phase  of  Krishnaism,  seems  to  me 
scarcely  a theory,  but  as  well  established  a case  of  borrowing 
as  is  recorded  in  the  annals  of  religious  history. 

The  epic  itself  refers  but  once,  and  that  is  in  a passage 
generally  admitted  to  be  late,  to  Krishna’s  exploits  in  child- 
hood. Even  then  the  feat  ascribed  to  him  is  merely  killing  a 
hawk.  The  later  stories  have  been  drawn  not  only  from  the 
gospels,  but  from  the  pseudepigrapha ; for  we  find,  besides  the 


166 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


statements  that  Krishna’s  look  heals  from  sin,  and  that  at 
the  time  of  his  birth  his  reputed  father  was  journeying  with 
his  mother  to  Muttra  “ to  pay  his  taxes,”  the  later  notion 
that  the  water  in  which  the  child  is  washed  is  curative  (found 
also  in  a late  apocrj^phal  Evangelium) ; just  as  we  find  too 
in  the  history  of  Krishna  the  late  Christophoros  legend. 

But  it  is  especially  in  the  alteration  of  the  character  of 
Krishna  as  thus  drawn  that  the  proof  of  outside  influence  is 
given,  and  we  may  notice  here  how  this  differentiates  these 
parallels  and  those  between  Buddhism  and  Christianity.  For 
whereas  the  latter  concern  characters  not  dissimilar  in  their 
manhood,  their  compassion,  and  their  gentle  graciousness,  the 
former  transform  completely  the  old  Indian  divinity  and  pre- 
sent it  in  a light  exactly  like  that  of  the  Christian  parallel, 
as  this  character  was  delineated  at  just  the  time  when  the 
Indian  divinity  also  was  thus  radically  changed.  For  the  cult 
of  the  Madonna  with  the  Child  and  the  peculiar  worship  of  the 
Child  as  a suckling  in  his  mother’s  arms  is  not  a feature  of 
primitive  Christianity.  It  arose  probably  in  the  second  cen- 
tury, but  it  did  not  become  a common  feature  before  the  third 
or  fourth  century,1  and  before  this  time  there  is  no  sign  of 
the  cult  of  the  Krishna-Child  in  India.  In  the  fourth  cen- 
tury, too,  arose  the  practice  of  observing  Christmas  Day, 
which  was  celebrated  not  at  first  on  December  25,  hut  on 
various  dates,  for  in  the  third  century  Christ’s  birthday  was 
variously  held  to  be  on  January  5 or  6,  March  28,  April  19  or 
20,  May  20,  and  November  19 ; just  as  the  Puranas  that  de- 
scribe the  Birthday  Festival  of  Krishna  give  the  time  vari- 
ously on  different  dates  (between  June  and  September), 
though  they  all  agree  that  the  hour  is  midnight. 

We  cannot  think,  as  was  taught  when  Krishna’s  name  was 
first  explained  as  the  nomen  ipsum  corruptum  Christi,  that 
Krishna-worship  is  all  a corruption  of  the  Christian  religion. 
For  with  more  light  on  the  background  we  can  see  more 
clearly  what  lies  behind  the  Child-god  Krishna.  But  in 
seeing  this  we  are  also  brought  to  recognize  how  great  is  the 
1 Compare  Weber,  loc.  cit.,  p.  336. 


CHRIST  IN  INDIA. 


167 


change  in  the  character  of  the  Hindu  divinity.  So  decided 
is  the  alteration  and  so  direct  is  the  connection  between  this 
later  phase  of  Krishnaism  and  the  Christianity  of  the  early 
centuries  of  our  era,  that  it  is  no  expression  of  extravagant 
fancy  but  a sober  historical  statement  to  say  that  in  all 
probability  the  Hindus  in  this  cult  of  the  Madonna  and 
Child  have  in  reality,  though  unwittingly,  been  worshipping 
the  Christ-Child  for  fully  a thousand  years.1  And  when  we 
see,  as  we  can  see  in  this  case,  how  ready  were  the  Hindus  to 
adopt  Christian  forms  of  worship,  we  shall  perhaps  not  hesi- 
tate to  admit  that  that  earlier  phase  of  Krishnaism,  which  is 
found  in  the  epic,  may  also  have  reached  its  present  form  not 
without  some  influence  from  that  religion  which,  in  so  many 
ways,  has  been  potent  in  inspiring  the  pious  imagination  of 
the  Hindu. 

For  not  in  Akbar’s  time  alone  did  Christians  expound  their 
doctrines  in  India ; and  not  only  among  the  lowly  were  they 
received.  Kings  as  well  as  peasants  welcomed  them,  and 
though  we  have  no  direct  evidence  of  this  before  the  time  of 
^iladitya,  yet,  as  this  Hindu  monarch  received  Christian 
Syrian  missionaries  at  his  court  in  the  seventh  century,  so 
we  may  well  believe  that  the  liberal-minded  Rajas  of  anti- 
quity did  not  shut  their  doors  to  any  creed.  Even  in  the 
epic,  the  court  of  a great  king  is  picturesquely  described  as 
filled  with  learned  teachers  of  religion,  “ who  argued  this  and 
that”  and  taught  freely  every  form  of  religious  philosophy, 
idealism,  “ may-be-ism,”  and  nihilism;  while  the  epic  itself 
declares  that  “ All  names  of  God  are  synonymous,”  and  in  the 
Gita  Krishna  says  in  substance : “ My  way  is  the  easy  path  of 
salvation  ; but  if  any  one  prefers  the  hard  path  of  asceticism 
and  philosophy,  he  too  may  be  saved.”  Until  the  Moham- 
medans taught  it,  it  is  doubtful  whether  such  a thing  as  reli- 
gious persecution  was  known  in  India.  Such  a soil  as  this 
was  already  prepared  for  the  seed  when  the  sowers  first  came 
from  the  West. 

1 The  worship  of  the  Krishna-Child  and  Madonna  in  India  is  probably  not 
older  than  the  sixth  or  seventh  century  x.  d. 


168 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


What  has  been  of  still  later  planting  may  be  surmised  only, 
for  monotheistic  growth  cannot  be  referred  with  certainty  to 
Christianity  after  the  Mohammedans  entered  India.  But,  on 
the  other  hand,  who  can  tell  how  great  has  been  the  influence 
exerted  by  the  teaching  of  the  first  centuries?  We  do  not 
know.  We  may  exaggerate  its  importance  and  we  may 
unduly  depreciate  it.  For  my  own  part,  though  I do  not 
know  that  it  was  an  influence  which  materially  affected  the 
thought  of  the  people,  I must  confess  that  the  ingrowth 
of  Christian  ideas  may  have  been  deeper  than  we  can  state 
with  certainty,  and  that,  for  example,  the  little  band  of  early 
Christians  in  South  India  may  have  been  instrumental  in  fash- 
ioning the  lofty  ideals  of  some  of  the  noble  religions  which  we 
know  existed  in  after  time  and  the  influence  of  which  in  their 
turn  may  still  be  potent  among  the  sects  of  to-day. 

That  there  was  a late  counter-growth  from  seeds  of  the 
Orient,  which,  starting  in  India,  blossomed  in  the  Occident 
in  tales  of  saints  and  in  moral  legends,  found  first  in  Persia, 
then  in  the  Talmud,  and  finally,  perhaps,  in  the  vision  of 
Dante,  may  be  admitted.  The  West  owes  much  to  India, 
and  though  most  of  this  was  brought  westward  centuries 
after  the  Christian  era,  it  is  still  within  the  bounds  of  possi- 
bility that  even  the  New  Testament  was  not  completed  with- 
out a graft  from  such  a foreign  growth.  But  this  is  as  far  as 
the  historical  data  permit  us  to  go,  and  such  a possibility, 
affecting  at  most  only  what  is  secondary  in  the  account,  fur- 
nishes no  base  for  the  belief  that  the  original  narrative  of 
Christ’s  birth  and  teaching  derives  from  Hindu  sources. 


ANCIENT  AND  MODERN  HINDU  GUILDS. 


GUILDS  IN  ANTIQUITY. 

The  guilds  of  India  can  be  traced  back  to  about  600  B.  c.  But 
it  is  probable  that  they  are  still  older,  for  when  they  are  first 
mentioned  it  is  as  a factor  of  considerable  importance  in 
the  state.  They  may  be  as  old  as  the  Vedic  period,  and  it 
has  even  been  claimed  by  Professor  Geldner  that  they  are 
referred  to  in  the  Rig  Veda,  but  this  is  quite  doubtful.  Nev- 
ertheless, although  the  earliest  law-books  recognize  the 
authority  of  the  guilds,  they  do  not  assign  to  them  so  con- 
spicuous a position  as  does  the  later  law  and  we  may  there- 
fore regard  the  first  six  centuries  before  our  era  as  a period 
of  development,  when  these  associations  still  had  much  to 
gain.  But  what  they  still  lacked  they  had  gained  completely 
by  the  third  or  fourth  century  A.  D. ; and  it  is  not  likely 
that  they  ever  possessed  more  power  than  they  did  at 
that  time,  although  they  have  maintained  a very  autocratic 
position  down  to  our  own  century,  and  in  certain  districts 
they  are  still  the  rulers  of  the  business  world  about  them. 
Even  in  the  third  century  B.  c.  they  were  very  powerful. 

Unfortunately,  the  oldest  texts  make  no  clear  statement  in 
respect  of  the  powers  of  the  guilds  or  of  their  organization. 
But  their  growth  in  influence  may  be  inferred  from  two 
typical  rules  of  the  law-books.  Gautama,  about  500  B.  c., 
says : “ Laws  of  districts,  castes,  and  families,  when  not 
opposed  to  sacred  texts,  are  an  authority,”  1 and  then  adds 


1 As  I cannot  quote  the  original  texts  (here  and  in  the  following  passages 
from  the  ancient  literature),  I will  comprise  in  one  note  most  of  the  references 
made  to  my  authorities  in  the  order  given.  G.  xi.  20-21  (Yas.  i.  17 ; xix.  7)  ; 
xv.  18;  Y.  i.  360;  M.  viii.  41  (B.  i.  1,  2,  3-7),  46;  Vas.  xvi.  15;  M.  viii.  219, 


170 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


to  this  the  words : “ Ploughmen,  merchants,  herdsmen, 
money-lenders,  and  artisans  (are  also  authority)  for  their 
respective  classes.”  Here  local  usage  and  the  laws  of  castes 
still  stand  pre-eminent.  But  in  Manu’s  law-book,  completed 
somewhat  earlier  than  the  Christian  era,  we  read:  “A  king 
should  enforce  his  own  law  only  after  a careful  examination  of 
the  laws  of  castes  and  districts,  guild-laws,  and  family-laws,” 
where  the  laws  of  the  guilds  are  already  reckoned  as  on  a par 
with  those  of  castes  and  families.  In  the  late  epic,  the  people 
at  a court  are  grouped  as  “ordinary  people,  priests,  and 
Naigamas,”  xvi.  7,  8.  These  last  are  undoubtedly  the  Sheths 
of  the  Buddhists  and  of  modern  times. 

If  the  king  was  bound  to  respect  the  laws  of  the  guilds,  he 
was  none  the  less  expected  to  see  that  the  members  of  the 
guild  followed  their  own  laws.  These  laws  were  in  fact  as 
authoritative  as  royal  decrees.  This  is  a point  often  touched 
upon  in  the  early  law-books,  where  (in  the  words  of  Yajna- 
valkya,  whose  code  belongs  to  the  beginning  of  our  era)  “ the 
king  must  discipline  and  establish  again  on  the  path  (of  duty) 
all  such  as  have  erred  from  their  own  laws,  whether  families, 
castes,  guilds,  associations,  or  (people  of  certain)  districts.” 

Till  the  time  of  Vishnu’s  law-book,  third  century  A.  D. 
no  one  of  these  guilds  appears  as  pre-eminent,  but  in  this  work 
“ metal-workers  and  smiths  of  silver  and  gold  ” are  mentioned 
particularly,  though  this  pre-eminence  may  be  due  to  accident. 
But  the  circumstance  is  interesting,  because  exactly  these 
guilds  became  the  chief  guilds  of  ordinary  towns,  and  because 
they  were  very  likely  the  first  to  band  together  in  self-defence, 
all  the  guilds  originating  in  this  way,  but  the  goldsmiths  per- 

221;  Brihas.  viii.  9.  On  the  possibility  of  guilds  in  the  Brahmanic  period, 
compare  the  use  of  other  words  for  corporations  and  the  early  use  of  the 
later,  technical  word  in  TS.  iii.  4,  5,  1 ; AY.  i.  9,  3 ; Ait.  Br.  iii.  30,  3 ; Kaushit. 
Up.  ii.  20 ; and  compare  the  puja  and  gramayajaka,  G.  xv.  16  ; Mbh.  iii.  200,  7 ; 
M.  iv.  205;  iii.  151,  104;  Yaj.  i.  161,  360;  ii.  192;  M.  iii.  154;  V.  x.  4.  In 
Buddhistic  literature,  the  following  passages : Cullav.  v.  8 ; vi.  1,  4;  Mahav.i. 
7,  1 ; viii.  1,  16  ff. ; Ep.  Ind.  ii.  p.  98.  From  the  epic,  further,  Mbh.  v.  34,  49  ; 
xii.  88,  29-30  ; 59,  49 ; 140,  64 ; xv.  7,  8 ; iii.  249,  16  ; xii.  107,  10-32  ; ii.  5,  80  ; 
xii.  36, 19 ; xii.  321,  143 ; Nar.  i.  40, 155 ; x.  1 ; Brihas.  xvii.  5 ff. 


ANCIENT  AND  MODERN  HINDU  GUILDS.  171 


haps  first  of  all,  since  the  old  law  in  regard  to  smiths  was  so 
extremely  severe  as  to  call  for  some  union  on  their  part.1 

All  compacts  made  by  guilds  as  corporate  bodies  come 
under  the  general  law  of  compacts,  and  both  the  older  and 
later  law-books  content  themselves  with  saying  on  this  point 
that  “the  king  should  see  to  it  that  guild-compacts  are 
enforced ; ” while  in  regard  to  compacts  made  by  the  guild- 
members  for  their  own  observance,  the  older  law  enjoined 
that  the  king  should  banish  the  member  who  violated  any 
agreement  made  by  the  association  to  which  the  offender 
belonged. 

The  reason  why  the  guilds  came  into  prominence  just  when 
they  did  is  doubtless  because  it  was  at  that  period  that  the 
Buddhists  arose,  who  reached  the  acme  of  their  power  in  the 
third  century  B.  C.  and  were  important  for  a thousand  years 
afterwards.  In  accordance  with  this  fact  stands,  too,  the 
special  prominence  of  guild-life  in  the  eastern  part  of  India, 
the  home  of  Buddhism.  As  the  Buddhists  placed  the  warrior- 
caste  before  the  priest-caste  and  gave  unrestricted  freedom  to 
the  third  estate,  it  is  not  wonderful  that  guild-life  is  char- 
acteristic of  a Buddhistic  environment.  The  same,  however, 
is  true  in  regard  to  the  Jains,  a rival  heretical  sect,  which 
also  arose  in  the  sixth  century  B.  C.  Hence  it  is  that,  on 
the  one  hand,  early  Buddhistic  literature,  from  350  B.  c. 
onwards,  teems  with  references  to  the  guilds  and  speaks  of 
the  Heads  of  Guilds  as  of  the  highest  social  position,  while, 
on  the  other  hand,  the  seat  of  guild-power  to-day  is  still  found 
among  the  Jains  (the  Buddhists  having  left  India),  and 
especially  among  the  descendants  of  those  who  claim  to  have 
come  originally  from  the  eastern  seat  of  Buddhistic  and  Jain 

1 The  old  law  in  regard  to  a goldsmith  found  guilty  of  defrauding  was 
based  on  the  principle  that  a goldsmith  can  most  easily  deceive,  and  that 
when  he  does  so  he  is  “the  vilest  of  sinners.”  The  king  is  therefore  directed 
to  see  to  it  that  a goldsmith  found  guilty  of  cheating  shall  be  chopped  up  into 
very  small  pieces  with  sharp  knives,  whereas  ordinary  thieves  or  cheats  are 
merely  beheaded.  By  uniting  together  and  ostracizing  a guilty  member,  the 
guild  could  inflict  a punishment  which,  if  it  was  not  so  severe,  probably  had  a 
still  more  deterrent  effect. 


172 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


culture.  Even  in  the  earliest  Buddhistic  sculptures  we  find 
reference  to  guilds  and  guild-masters.  From  the  literature 
we  see  that  the  Heads  of  Guilds  were  great  householders, 
who  were  not  only  high  state  officials,  but  on  occasion  became 
kings,  at  all  times  being  represented  as  in  the  social  set  of 
kings  and  princes,  friends  and  intimates  of  the  various  Rajas 
of  Oudh 1 and  Benares.  They  bore,  too,  the  same  name  con- 
ferred to-day  on  the  Heads  of  Guilds  ; namely,  Sheth,  meaning 
optimus,  the  Heads  being  in  name  as  in  fact  a literal  aris- 
tocracy. The  Sheth  in  old  times  was  often  addressed  sim- 
ply as  householder,  but  with  the  connotation  of  land-owner, 
landed-proprietor.  From  the  law  it  appears  that  there  were 
guilds  of  various  sorts,  but  the  only  prominent  one  in 
Buddhist  literature  is  that  of  the  merchants,  those  members 
of  the  “ third  caste  ” so  oppressed  by  Brahmanism,  so  liberated 
by  Buddhism.  The  Sheth  who  is  a Householder  (a  higher 
title)  is  sometimes  the  king’s  treasurer,  as  if  the  word 
(literally  “ house-lord  ”)  meant  ruler  of  the  king’s  house,  for 
he  is  the  chief  official  of  the  kingdom.  The  Sheth’s  office, 
either  as  treasurer  or  simple  Sheth,  was,  however,  hereditary. 
Such,  in  Buddha’s  day,  were  the  great  Sheth  families  of 
Benares  and  the  neighboring  towns.  They  represent  a cross- 
cut through  the  ancient  system  of  castes,  a plutocracy  perpet- 
uating itself  as  an  aristocracy.  This  view  was  adopted  by  the 
Brahmans  themselves,  who  soon  after  this  period  began  to 
make  a sharp  distinction  between  the  very  wealthy  and  the 
ordinary  members  of  the  third  estate,  who  still  remained  a 
despicable  caste  “ created  for  the  king  to  devour ; ” till  the 
new  democratic  tendency  finds  expression  in  the  words  of  the 
epic  sage,  who  says : “ That  which  is  called  the  wealthy  is  a 
very  important  member  of  the  state ; for  verily  a man  with 
money  is  the  top  of  all  creation.”  The  great  epic  is  full  of 
allusions  to  the  guilds.  Their  power  is  reckoned  as  equal  to 


1 This  word  is  with  us  regularly  but  erroneously  pronounced  as  if  ou  had 
the  “continental ’’sound  ; but  it  is  the  English  form  of  the  native  name  (pro- 
nounce Otcdh).  Raj  and  Punjab,  too,  have  the  English  j-sound  and  the 
vowel  a is  here  long  (pronounce  Rawj,  Punjawb). 


ANCIENT  AND  MODERN  HINDU  GUILDS.  173 


that  of  the  army ; their  Heads  must  be  “ talked  over  ” by 
spies  when  the  king  would  subdue  another  kingdom ; they 
are  “ supported  by  union,”  and  the  king  is  especially  charged 
not  to  tax  them  too  heavily,  lest  they  become  disaffected, 
which  is  represented  as  a very  great  calamity.  As  the  epic 
was  probably  completed  soon  after  our  era,  it  is  interesting  to 
notice  that  perhaps  the  modern  Panchayat  was  already 
known  at  that  date.  For  in  one  of  the  didactic  portions, 
mention  is  made  of  the  “ five,  valliant  and  wise  ” who  in  each 
town  “preserve  order.”  They  are  expressly  stated  to  be  a 
united  body  “among  the  people,”  that  is,  in  the  country. 
There  is  also  one  passage  where  the  later  Mahajans  may  be 
referred  to  in  the  epic.  For  many  centuries  this  word 
( mahajana , literally  “ big  people  ”)  has  designated  the  masters 
of  the  more  important  guilds  as  well  as  the  guilds  themselves. 
Nowadays  it  is  usually  applied  in  the  eastern  part  of  India  to 
wealthy  bankers  and  gold-merchants.  The  passage  in  the 
epic,  however,  does  not  certainly  use  the  word  in  its  modern 
sense,  and  it  is  several  centuries  before  the  word  occurs  again 
in  its  modern  meaning. 

In  the  law-books  of  Narada  and  Brihaspati,  assigned  to  the 
fifth  and  sixth  centuries  of  our  era,  some  new  legal  material  is 
found  in  regard  to  guilds.  We  learn  that  the  guild  is  gov- 
erned by  a board  of  from  two  to  five  persons.  The  villages 
are  directed  to  “ take  the  advice  ” of  such  a Panchayat,  which 
oversees  the  affairs  of  smaller  associations  as  well  as  its  own. 
Banishment  is  the  punishment  of  any  one  who  injures  the  joint- 
stock  of  a guild  or  disobeys  its  laws.  Banishment  and  con- 
fiscation of  his  entire  property  is  the  penalty  for  a man’s  failure 
to  perform  an  agreement  entered  into  by  all  the  guild.  The 
power  of  the  guilds  at  this  epoch  is  shown  by  the  fact  that 
the  king  must  approve  of  whatever  the  guilds  do  to  other  people, 
and  that  there  may  be  no  mistake  is  added,  whether  what  they 
do  is  cruel  or  kind.  This  is  a plain  advance  on  the  earlier  law 
in  this  regard.  The  question  as  to  what  is  to  be  done  if  a 
dispute  arises  between  the  Sheths  and  their  guilds  is  also 
opened  here,  and  it  is  ruled  that  the  king  shall  act  as  umpire 


174 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


between  them.  On  the  other  hand,  if  the  king  learns  that  a 
whole  guild,  actuated  by  hatred , is  boycotting  one  of  its  own 
members,  he  is  directed  to  “restrain  them.”  All  funds 
donated  (by  the  king)  to  a single  member  of  a guild  shall 
belong  to  all  and  be  divided  among  the  guild,  or  be  bestowed 
on  needy  persons.  All  royal  gifts  and  all  expenditures  of  the 
society  are  common  to  all. 

The  guilds  at  this  time  (the  fifth  or  sixth  century  a.d.)  tried 
their  own  law-suits,  but  a right  of  appeal  to  the  king  as  final 
court  is  permitted.  If,  however,  a case  is  appealed  and  is 
again  lost,  the  appellant  must  pay  double  what  he  was  fined 
by  the  first  court.  A very  decided  stand  is  taken  by  Narada 
in  regard  to  the  old  question  whether  scriptural  law  or  local 
custom  is  authoritative.  “ Custom,”  he  says,  “ decides  every- 
thing and  overrules  scriptural  law.” 

It  is  Narada  who  gives  us  the  first  rules  in  regard  to  appren- 
tices. From  these  it  appears  that  a young  man  desirous  of 
learning  a trade  was  free  to  do  so  (in  other  words,  “ caste  ” was 
not  so  strict  an  index  of  occupation  as  it  is  supposed  to  have 
been).  The  young  man  left  his  father’s  house  and  lived  with 
a master.  This  master  taught  him  and  fed  him  and  made  him 
work,  but  might  not  make  him  do  any  other  than  the  trade- 
work  which  he  was  learning.  The  youth  was  “ bound  out,”  for 
there  is  a special  law  which  permits  the  master  to  compel  the 
apprentice’s  return  should  the  latter  run  away.  The  appren- 
tice might  be  whipped  or  shut  up  if  he  was  disobedient.  In  fact, 
he  was  to  be  “ treated  like  a son.”  That  he  was  bound  out 
for  a given  length  of  time  and  that  the  advantage  from  his 
work  was  wholly  his  master’s,  follows  from  another  law,  which 
specifies  that  in  case  the  apprentice  has  learned  the  trade 
more  quickly  than  the  contract  calls  for,  the  time  left  over 
shall  be  his  master’s,  and  all  the  profit  derived  from  the 
apprentice  during  that  period  shall  accrue  to  his  master.  If 
agreed  upon  in  advance,  however,  the  apprentice  might  be 
rewarded  with  a fee  when  he  became  proficient,  but  he  should 
continue  to  work  for  his  master  till  the  stated  time  was  up. 
The  pupil  is  expressly  commanded  to  be  humble  before  his 


ANCIENT  AND  MODERN  HINDU  GUILDS.  175 


master.  The  reason  given  is  quaint  enough  to  quote:  “For 
science  is  like  a river,  ever  advancing  downward  to  a humbler 
level ; therefore  as  one’s  knowledge  grows  broader  and  deeper 
one  should  become  ever  more  humble  toward  the  source  of 
one’s  knowledge.” 

Very  important  evidence  is  given  in  regard  to  the  guilds 
by  the  inscriptions  on  rocks  and  copper-plates,  found  over 
Northern  India.  At  one  time  we  read  of  guilds  presenting 
moneys  as  religious  bodies,  at  another  a man  registers  himself 
as  “ merchant  Head  of  (such)  a guild.”  In  one  inscription  of 
the  fifth  century  there  is  a very  instructive  account  of  a sun- 
temple  built  and  endowed  by  a prosperous  guild  of  weavers, 
who  had  emigrated  from  their  native  district  and  after  vari- 
ous hardships  prospered  sufficiently  to  build  a temple.  Here 
is  brought  out  prominently  the  fact  that  a change  of  occupa- 
tion is  not  unusual.  Some  of  these  weavers,  it  is  recorded, 
took  to  other  trades. 

Another  inscription  shows  that  the  guilds  acted  as  banks. 
They  received  as  a body  moneys  in  perpetuity,  a trust-fund, 
the  principal  of  which  they  kept,  but  for  the  use  of  this  they 
paid,  to  the  beneficiary  named  in  the  grants,  five  per  cent  inter- 
est (a  month).  Here  the  sabhd , “guild  hall,”  is  spoken  of.1 

A Nepalese  legend  of  the  third  or  fourth  century  records 
that  Thana,  which  is  minutely  described,  was  r.uled  by  a 
strong  merchant  guild.2  Later  literature  down  to  our  own 
time  contains  frequent  references  to  such  bodies,  but  no 
thorough  treatment  of  them  is  to  be  found,  though  the  allu- 
sions to  the  conspicuous  position  held  by  the  guilds  and  their 
Heads  fully  attest  the  correctness  of  the  law-books  in  laying 
so  much  stress  upon  their  power. 

The  check  on  this  power  was  held  by  the  king,  in  his  pre- 
rogative of  taxing  at  will  whenever  he  could  claim  that  “ hard 
times  ” induced  hard  taxes.  Ordinarily,  a small  tax  is  put  on 
every  marketable  article,  the  tax  to  be  paid  in  kind  or  in 

1 Corpus  Ins.  Ind.  vol.  iii.  No.  18 ; Nasik  Ins.  Arch.  Surv.  vol.  iv.  p.  102. 

2 Oppert  in  the  Madras  Journal,  1878,  p.  194;  Bombay  Gazetteer,  vol.  xiii. 
p.  406. 


176 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


money.  But  when  occasion  arose,  the  king  might  tax  as  he 
pleased,  or  even  take  what  he  pleased  from  all  subjects  save 
the  priests.  When  land-grants  became  common,  it  was  cus- 
tomary to  have  stated  in  them  just  what  tax  each  trader  or 
inhabitant  of  the  town  deeded  in  the  grant  was  to  pay  to  the 
grantee.  Most  of  these  imposts  were  decided  by  the  king 
(or  officer)  “ in  consultation  with  the  Heads  of  guilds.”  1 

MODERN  GUILDS. 

In  the  autumn  of  1896,  thanks  to  the  courtesy  of  the  dis- 
tinguished Sheth  of  Ahmedabad,  Mr.  Lalbhai  Dalpatbhai,  I 
was  granted  the  privilege  of  an  interview  with  the  leading 
Sheths  and  Patels  (heads  of  artisan  guilds)  in  that  city,  who 
very  kindly  consented,  at  Mr.  Lalbhai  Dalpatbhai’s  request, 
to  meet  at  an  informal  conference  and  answer  the  various 
questions  which  I should  put  to  them  in  regard  to  the  rules 
and  practices  of  their  local  guilds.  The  value  of  the  informa- 
tion received  lies  partly  in  the  fact  that  Ahmedabad  is  the 
centre  of  guild-life  in  India ; but  particularly  in  this,  that  the 
guilds  have  no  written  laws  and  in  many  cases  no  clear  plan 
of  procedure  in  unusual  circumstances  ; and  that  the  power  of 
the  guilds  is  declining  and  their  practices  will  soon  be  modi- 
fied through  the  ever-increasing  number  of  merchants  and 
manufacturers  who  do  not  belong  to  any  guild,  and  whose 
methods  are  more  modern,  so  that  their  influence  is  destruc- 
tive of  old  conditions.  Some  of  the  statements  made  at  this 
conference  by  the  guildmen  agree  with  those  embodied  in 
various  reports  of  guilds  published  in  a more  or  less  fragmen- 
tary manner  in  different  numbers  of  the  Bombay  Gazetteer. 
Others  are  in  direct  contradiction  to  such  reports.  In  the 
former  case,  I have  given  precedence  to  what  has  already 
been  published;  in  the  latter,  I have  generally  presented 
the  corrected  statement  first,  for  in  instances  of  this  sort  I 
inquired  particularly  of  different  members,  in  regard  both  to 
their  personal  knowledge  and  to  what  they  knew  by  hearsay, 

1 Compare  the  first  Surya  grant  in  the  Bhaunagar  collection,  pp.  67-69. 


ANCIENT  AND  MODERN  HINDU  GUILDS.  177 


and  when  all  agreed  as  against  a printed  record  made  by 
some  official,  I judged  that  they  knew  best.  But  in  regard  to 
historical  data  I was  unable  to  learn  anything  of  value.  In 
answer  to  what  had  happened  in  the  past,  the  members  of  the 
conference  always  referred  to  two  or  three  aged  Sheths  who 
“remembered”  this  or  that.  Sometimes  they  remembered  in 
unison,  sometimes  they  remembered  variously.  When  this 
happened  they  accepted  it  as  a proof  that  there  was  “ no  use 
in  asking  about  things  too  far  back.”  I came  to  the  same 
conclusion  and  omit  all  cases  of  divergent  recollections. 

To  the  information  obtained  at  Ahmedabad,  I have  here 
added  what  I could  gather  elsewhere  in  Gujarat  and  in 
Rajputana,  collecting  also  what  I could  in  other  towns  to  the 
east  and  north.  But  I soon  found  that,  though  the  name 
remained,  and  some  guild-activity  was  to  be  found  as  far 
away  as  Lahore  and  Benares,  yet  it  was  always  a lessen- 
ing ripple  as  compared  with  the  centre  of  guild-inter- 
est in  Gujarat,  where,  indeed,  after  the  earlier  Buddhistic 
period,  the  guilds  seem  to  have  always  had  their  firmest 
stronghold. 

To  those  unacquainted  with  modern  conditions  it  may  be 
necessary  to  say  that,  apart  from  Rajas  and  scholars  or  saints, 
the  modern  merchants,  Vanias,  or  Bunias,  are  practically  the 
most  important  caste ; after  them  come  common  priests.  There 
is  no  warrior-caste.  The  Rajputs  regard  themselves  as  dis- 
tinct. Small  traders,  such  as  the  Lohanas  and  Bhatias  of 
Kathiawar,  usually  claim  Rajput  descent,  as  do  most  artisans. 
But  goldsmiths  claim  that  they  are  pure  Vanias.  The  mer- 
chants of  the  North,  when  not  Parsees  or  Mohammedans,  are 
usually  either  Shravaks,1  that  is  Jains,  or  Vishnuite  Vanias, 
or  Smartas,  — that  is,  Brahmans  of  the  Qiva  faith ; more  rarely 
they  are  Meshris,  that  is,  Brahmans  of  the  Vishnu  faith.  Thus 
it  will  be  seen  that  all  the  old  castes  have  become  more  or 

1 The  word  is  always  spelled  in  this  way,  and  I keep  this  and  other  forms, 
such  as  Rajput,  rajaputra,  now  almost  Anglo-Indian.  Shravak  is,  of  course, 
f ravaka ; as  Smarta,  Mahajan,  etc.,  are  properly  smarta,  mahajan,  etc.  Towns 
in  -abad  are  also  usually  written  without  circumflex. 

12 


178 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


less  mercantile.  It  may  be  observed,  further,  that  guild-men 
are  usually  Hindus,  who  claim  Aryan  descent.  But  in  the 
North,  Mohammedans  occasionally  form  guilds,  as  they  form 
castes,  in  weak  imitation  of  Hindu  models. 


THE  GUILD  AND  SHETH  OR  PATEL. 

No  perfect  uniformity  exists  in  regard  to  the  names  and 
titles  of  guilds  and  their  chiefs.  But  there  is  a general 
distinction  between  artisan  and  merchant  guilds.  There  is, 
again,  a distinction  between  the  village-guild  and  the  guild 
of  a large  town. 

In  a village  there  is  sometimes  but  one  guild,  and  the 
head  of  the  guild  is  then  the  head  of  the  village  itself,  the 
Patel.  In  many  cases  there  is  but  one  guild-occupation,  all 
other  villagers  being  “ outsiders,”  who  do  not  belong  to 
the  “ village-guild  ” at  all.  These  outsiders  are  people  of 
the  lowest  class,  public  servants  and  the  like.  In  some 
cases  they  are  recognized  as  “ intruders ; ” that  is,  as  people 
who  have  come  into  the  village  and  settled  there,  but  do 
not  belong  to  it,  “ outsiders  ” with  a touch  of  their  profane 
birth  still  adhering  to  them.  But  all  trades  usually  form 
one  guild  in  a village,  and  the  members  form  one  corporate 
body  against  encroachments  on  the  part  of  the  government  or 
the  entrance  of  new  families  with  like  trades  into  the  village. 

Distinct  guilds  are  formed  by  the  scission  of  separate 
guilds  as  the  village  grows  into  a town.  But  there  always 
remains  a loose  trade-union  between  all  the  guilds  even 
of  a large  city.  The  guilds  thus  separate  are  often  identical 
with  caste.  This,  however,  is  not  the  case  in  very  large 
towns,  where,  owing  to  outside  influence  and  other  causes, 
trade  (guilds)  and  caste  are  more  apt  to  be  diverse. 

The  complete  guild-system  of  a city  makes  a clear  dis- 
tinction between  the  Panch  or  artisans’  guild  with  the  Patel 
as  its  head-man,  and  the  Mahajan  or  guild  of  merchants, 
bankers,  and  large  dealers,  the  leader  of  which  is  called 
a Sheth. 


ANCIENT  AND  MODERN  HINDU  GUILDS.  179 


This  title  of  Sheth  is  used  in  two  ways,  the  one  I have 
just  described,  and  another,  according  to  which  Sheth  is 
a title  of  honor  given  to  the  head-man  of  the  city,  hence 
called  Nagar-Sheth,  or  City-Chief.  As  a merely  complimen- 
tary title  this  name  Nagar-Sheth  may  be  applied  to  wealthy 
traders,  but  properly  it  is  bestowed  upon  a prominent  civilian 
who  may  or  may  not  be  a merchant.  Not  very  long  ago, 
at  the  time  when  Mr.  Lely  wrote  for  the  Bombay  Gazetteer, 
the  Nagar-Sheth  of  Ahmedabad  was  still  a very  influential 
person,  but  he  has  already  lost  much  of  his  power,  which 
has  been  taken  by  a leading  manufacturer,  a man  who 
does  not  belong  to  any  guild,  but  by  public  gifts  and 
wealth  he  has  won  in  the  business  world  a position  of 
commanding  influence,  — a fact  indicative  of  the  rapid  pass- 
ing away  of  the  old  order.  The  Nagar-Sheth  of  Ahmedabad 
is  the  head  of  a great  Jain  family,  and  his  title  has  been 
inherited  for  several  generations.  He  is  practically  the 
leader  of  the  religious  community  of  the  Jains,  and  a few 
years  ago  he  and  the  chief  of  the  cloth-makers’  guild,  who 
happened  to  be  the  head  of  the  Vishnu  sect,  could,  in  Mr. 
Lely’s  words,  “ carry  public  opinion  on  a religious  or  semi- 
religious question.”  In  other  towns  this  title  has  become 
a mere  name,  and  even  in  Ahmedabad  the  Nagar-Sheth 
has  now  only  a religious  and  social  importance.  As  Sheth 
of  the  bankers’  guild  he  is,  apart  from  his  civil  office,  influ- 
ential socially,  but  his  pre-eminence  as  City  Chief  was  due 
originally  to  the  standing  of  his  family  rather  than  to 
the  importance  of  his  guild.1  It  would  appear,  therefore, 
that  we  have  in  the  Nagar-Sheth  the  survival  of  an  office 
which  corresponds  very  nearly  to  that  of  an  old-fashioned 
mayor,  though  the  incumbent  of  the  office  is  neither  ap- 
pointed by  the  ruling  power  nor  elected  by  the  people,  but 
chosen  on  account  of  his  social  superiority  from  among  the 
guild-Sheths  to  represent  the  dignity  and  power  of  all  the 
commercial  classes  of  the  city. 

1 Compare  Lely,  Bombay  Gazetteer,  vol.  ii.  p.  321. 


180 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


The  usual  Sheth,  however,  is  the  head  of  a guild  of 
“big  men,”  Mahajan,  and  a union  of  all  trades  in  a small 
town  is  sometimes  called  a Mahajan,  as  in  Broach,  where 
the  “ city  Mahajan  includes  bankers,  money-changers, 
agents,  brokers,  cotton-dealers,  and  so  forth,  being  in  fact 
a sort  of  board  of  trade,  or  chamber  of  commerce,  though 
it  is  also  a protective  club  against  artisan-guilds.  For  where 
there  are  guilds  of  artisans  it  soon  becomes  necessary  to 
have  some  sort  of  union  against  them.  Otherwise,  on  the 
slightest  occasion  of  discontent  a man  of  superior  social 
rank  would  become  obnoxious  to  great  misfortune,  since 
all  the  artisan  guilds  would  boycott  him.  The  only  defence, 
therefore,  is  to  be  able  to  boycott  the  artisan  and  his  guild. 
This  is  sometimes  done,  but  generally,  since  a mutual  boy- 
cott is  a mutual  disadvantage,  the  mere  presence  of  the 
union  on  the  part  of  the  victims  of  the  artisans  leads  to 
a more  conciliatory  tone,  and  unpleasantness  is  averted  by 
mediation. 

The  word  “ Panchayat  ” is  applied  in  large  towns  to  trades 
that  are  coterminous  with  castes.  In  Ahmedabad  this  would 
appear  to  be  always  the  case.  Mr.  Lely’s  statement  to  the 
contrary,  in  the  Gazetteer,  vol.  iv.  p.  106,  was  contradicted 
by  all  the  members  of  the  conference,  who  said  that  the 
word  “ Panchayat  ” was  used  only  when  guild  coincided  with 
caste.  But  in  other  places,  as  in  Surat,  a Panchayat  may 
include  different  castes.  The  same  is  true  of  the  Panch 
Mahal  district,  only  here,  where  the  population  is  small, 
the  general  trade-regulating  merchants’  guild  is  more  apt 
to  be  dignified  with  the  name  Mahajan.  As  all  the  small 
guilds  are  called  Panchs  in  Ahmedabad,  there  would  seem 
to  have  been  evolved  here  a nicer  terminology,  by  virtue  of 
which  the  original  application  of  Panchayat  was  more  care- 
fully preserved.  In  respect  of  the  wider  use  of  Mahajan, 
which  obtains  in  some  parts  of  Kathiawar  as  a designation  of 
artisan  guilds  (according  to  the  statement  made  in  his 
report  by  Mr.  R.  Proctor-Sims),  the  conference  was  unani- 
mous in  saying  that  only  when  all  guilds  were  united  could 


ANCIENT  AND  MODERN  HINDU  GUILDS.  181 


they  be  called,  as  a collective  body,  Mahajan;  and  that  no 
single  artisan  guild  was  ever  so  dignified.  Nor  have  I 
personally  found  anywhere  in  Kathiawar  corroboration  of 
Mr.  Sims’  remark  that  tailors,  blacksmiths,  potters,  and 
other  lowly  people  “ have  each  a Mahajan.”  1 The  Patel 
of  the  blacksmith  guild  at  the  conference  said  he  did  not 
believe  that  the  title  Mahajan  was  applied  “to  any  single 
artisan-guild  in  the  country,”  and  I am  inclined  to  think 
he  was  right.  Another  slight  error  in  Mr.  Lely’s  account 
is  found  in  his  statement  that  in  Ahmedabad  “ there  are  four 
castes  of  carpenters  and  therefore  four  assemblies  for  caste 
purposes,  but  only  one  carpenters’  Mahajan.”  The  chief 
of  the  carpenters  told  me  personally  that  he  was  Patel  of 
a Panch,  not  of  a Mahajan,  and  that  the  castes  were  not 
true  castes,  for  they  intermarry. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  same  caste  may  have  subdivided 
guilds.  This  I found  to  be  the  case  among  the  silversmiths. 
They  all  belonged  to  one  caste,  but  not  to  one  guild.  But 
it  sometimes  happens  that  one  guild  comprises  different 
castes.  Thus  the  chief  of  the  confectioners  stated  that  there 
were  three  castes  in  his  guild.  These  were  real  castes ; that 
is,  the  members  of  the  guild  were  divided  into  groups 
which  would  not  eat  together  nor  intermarry.  The  chief 
explained  this  by  saying  that  the  castes  were  geographical. 
This  is  probably  so.  In  old  days,  one  caste  was  more  apt  to 
imply  one  occupation;  but  now  strangers,  with  different 
habits  and  of  different  origin,  unite  in  one  occupation  as  they 
drift  locally  together. 

There  is  an  intermediate  stage  in  large  towns  between  the 
great  merchants’  Mahajan  and  the  humbler  artisans’  Panch. 
This  is  represented  by  the  “ pure  Yania  caste  ” goldsmith. 
The  smiths  of  gold  (and  silver)  are  the  highest  Panch  or  the 
lowest  Mahajan,  depending  on  whether  the  goldsmith  is  at  the 
same  time  a banker.  If  there  are  several  goldsmith-bankers, 

1 Compare  the  Bombay  Gazetteer,  vol.  ii.  p.  321 ; vol.  iii.  p.  251 ; and  vol. 
viii.  p.  265. 


182 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


they  are  called  a Mahajan.  But  the  mere  artisans  belong  to 
a Panch,  as  do  all  lower  smiths,  carpenters,  masons,  tile- 
makers,  dyers,  and  so  forth.  Of  these  humbler  organiza- 
tions the  most  powerful  is  usually  the  tile-makers’  guild, 
on  the  goodwill  of  which  every  one  is  dependent,  and  which 
controls  absolutely  the  still  humbler  but  important  guild  of 
potters. 

The  number  of  guilds  in  a town  differs  greatly,  most  large 
towns  having  from  thirty  to  one  hundred  and  fifty.  In  the 
fifth  century  of  our  era,  one  of  the  late  law-makers  says  there 
were  eighteen  guilds ; but  they  have  evidently  been  increasing 
in  number,  as  even  to-day  they  show  a marked  tendency  to 
multiply  rather  than  decrease.  The  less  important  they  are 
in  any  large  city,  the  more  there  are  of  them.  Thus  the  guilds 
of  J eypur  have  not  nearly  the  power  of  those  of  Ahmedabad, 
which  is  a smaller  city,  but  there  are  forty  guilds  in  the  latter 
place,  while  there  are  thrice  that  number  in  Jeypur.  This  is 
due  rather  to  the  splitting  up  of  the  guilds  themselves  than  to 
the  formation  of  new  corporations.  Where  the  guilds  are  in- 
fluential, they  remain  undivided.  But  when  they  lose  the 
significance  they  once  had,  they  tend  to  become  mere  clubs, 
which  an  irreconcilable  quarrel  will  frequently  cause  to 
divide  ; so  that  the  same  profession  will  be  represented  by 
two  opposed  factions.  Even  in  Ahmedabad  there  are  ten  more 
guilds  to-day  than  there  were  twenty  years  ago. 

In  the  country,  when  an  outsider  is  opposed  to  the  guild, 
the  Panchayat  will  deliberate  on  the  case  and  invariably  settle 
it  in  favor  of  the  guild,  unless  the  outsider  be  rich  enough  to 
corrupt  the  Panchayat  or  strong  enough  practically  to  over- 
awe it.  In  ordinary  cases  the  Panchayat  of  a village-guild 
practically  forbids  all  competition. 

The  Panch  may  contain  different  castes,  but  the  Mahajan 
may  comprise  different  races.  Ordinarily,  however,  two 
guilds  to  a trade  is  the  limit  of  expansion,  as  in  the  case  of 
cloth-merchants  of  Ahmedabad,  where  workers  in  silk  and  in 
gold  form  two  distinct  guilds  in  the  brocade  trade. 


ANCIENT  AND  MODERN  HINDU  GUILDS.  183 


APPRENTICESHIP. 

The  old  law,  to  which  I have  referred  above,  seems  to  have 
fallen  into  desuetude.  No  articles  are  made  out,  no  premium 
is  paid,  and  in  fact  there  is  no  real  apprenticeship.  Artisan 
boys  learn  their  trade  at  home  or  receive  small  wages  while 
they  learn  it  under  a master,  but  in  no  case  are  they  bound 
out,  being  free  to  leave  their  own  work  if  they  (or  their 
parents)  think  it  best  to  do  so.  The  old  idea  of  an  inherited 
trade  is  generally  kept,  but  it  is  violated  frequently  and  with 
apparent  impunity.  Sometimes  the  boy’s  keep  is  considered  a 
sufficient  return  for  his  work  till  he  has  mastered  his  trade. 
What  may  appear  at  first  sight  to  be  apprenticeship  is  in 
reality  a private  arrangement  between  a father  and  a master- 
workman,  who  is  asked  to  take  charge  of  the  boy’s  education, 
but  he  does  not  take  the  boy  with  legal  formalities.  Twenty- 
five  rupees  a year  after  the  first  year  of  training  is  considered 
sufficient  recompense  for  the  value  of  the  boy’s  labor,  and 
thereafter  three  rupees  (one  dollar)  a month,  till  the  trade  is 
learned.  In  Jeypur,  I was  informed  that  there  used  to  be  a 
fine  inflicted  on  any  man  whose  son  learned  a new  trade  ; but 
no  other  means  to  prevent  a change  of  family  occupation  was 
ever  taken,  and  nowadays  the  old  rule  is  not  enforced. 

THE  HEAD-MAN  AND  ELDERS. 

The  Sheth,  or  Head-man  of  a guild,  holds  his  position  by 
hereditary  right,  which  may,  however,  be  set  aside.  But  the 
right  is  that  conferred  by  custom  and  is  therefore  very  strong. 
Only  unusual  circumstances  would  prevent  a son’s  succession 
to  his  father’s  position  as  head  of  the  guild.  The  dignity  of 
the  guild  is  represented  by  its  Sheth,  so  that  the  usual  rule  is 
for  the  son  to  succeed,  provided  he  is  fitted  to  uphold  the 
moral  and  financial  standing  of  the  family  and  guild.  Other- 
wise he  is  set  aside.  In  this  case  the  new  Sheth  is  elected 
from  a new  family,  not  usually  from  the  same  family,  as  Mr. 
Lely  asserts  ; who  also  remarks  that  the  unworthy  son  “ still 
retains  the  title,”  a statement  denied  by  the  conference.  They 


184 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


said  that  a new  family  would  in  all  probability  be  selected, 
but  they  admitted  that  the  second  son  of  an  old  Sheth  might 
possibly  get  the  office. 

The  election  is  made  by  the  whole  guild  and  is  settled  by 
a majority  vote.  The  case  where  a new  candidate  has  to  be 
selected  appears  to  be  rare,  for  the  members  of  the  conference 
were  unable  to  say  what  would  happen  if  there  were  more 
than  one  candidate,  or  whether  there  would  be  more  than  one. 
They  seemed  to  think  that  only  one  name  would  ever  be  sub- 
mitted to  the  guild  to  vote  upon,  and  I fancy  that  this  is  a 
fact,  since  the  personal  influence  of  the  rich  is  very  great,  and 
they  would  rather  settle  the  matter  first  among  themselves 
and  then  submit  the  name  to  the  whole  guild  pro  forma.  No 
one  in  the  conference  had  ever  heard  of  two  candidates  being 
put  forward.  They  said  that  “ of  course  the  best  and  biggest 
man  ” would  be  made  Sheth.  But  indeed  to  have  any  real 
candidate  is  extraordinary.  Ordinarily  the  eldest  son  of  the 
deceased  Sheth  becomes  Sheth  with  only  the  form  of  an  elec- 
tion. The  procedure,  however,  as  imagined  by  members  of 
the  conference,  would  be  as  follows,  in  case  there  was  need  of 
a new  Sheth  from  a new  family  (I  cite  verbatim  from  notes 
made  on  the  spot)  : “ There  would  be  but  one  candidate,  for 
there  can  be  but  one  best  and  biggest  man.  The  most  influ- 
ential men,  quietly  coming  together,  on  making  in  their  minds 
the  sad  discovery  that  the  son  of  the  Sheth  was  not  fitted  to 
inherit  the  dignity  of  his  fathers,  would  agree  upon  that  per- 
son who  would  best  represent  the  guild,  and  having  amicably 
agreed  upon  this  man  they  would  go  before  the  guild  and  say, 
‘ Vote  for  this  man.’  ” Question  : “ Suppose  the  guild  refused 
to  vote  for  him? ” Answer : “ The  guild  is  sometimes  opin- 
ionated in  other  matters,  but  we  have  never  known  a guild  re- 
fuse to  vote  as  its  influential  leaders  directed  it  to  do  when  the 
question  was  one  of  election.”  Question : “ Do  the  venerable 
Sheths  remember  no  such  case?”  Answer:  “It  is  not  re- 
membered.” In  short,  the  guilds  elect  as  the  leaders  select. 

These  “ influential  leaders  ” are  the  elders  or  Council  of  the 
guild,  and  they  too  bear  the  name  of  Sheth,  but  only  as  a 


ANCIENT  AND  MODERN  HINDU  GUILDS.  185 


decoration.  There  may,  however,  be  two  real  Sheths,  in 
which  case  each  Sheth  is  originally  the  Sheth  of  his  own 
caste  (guild)  or  sect.  Thus  the  local  silk-cloth  guild  of 
Ahmedabad  has  two  heads,  one  to  represent  the  Shravaks  and 
one  to  represent  the  Vishnuites,  and  in  nearly  all  the  great 
city-guilds  in  Gujarat  the  two  prevailing  sects  are  thus  repre- 
sented. The  sons  of  councillors  inherit  the  title  as  a matter 
of  courtesy  and  are  often  in  reality  the  councillors  of  the  next 
Sheth,  so  that  the  Sheth  in  council  seem  to  represent  an  hered- 
itary body.  The  proverb  cited  by  Mr.  Lely,  loc.  cit.,  p.  108, 
“ Energy  makes  the  Sheth,  no  one  asks  what  family  he  is,” 
represents  a theoretical  possibility,  and  doubtless  an  historical 
fact,  but  not  the  present  condition  of  affairs. 

In  small  country  towns  in  Gujarat  every  leading  merchant 
is  politely  called  Sheth,  as  in  Benares  he  is  called  Mahajan, 
or  as  in  New  England  a country  lawyer  is  called  ’Squire. 

As  a great  part  of  the  charity  performed  by  the  guild  is  of 
a religious  character,  when  the  Sheth  is  of  a different  sect  to 
that  of  most  members  of  the  guild,  and  the  latter  have  no 
sectarian  Sheth  of  their  own,  the  guild  will  often  give  over 
its  charity-moneys  to  the  Sheth  of  another  guild  of  identical 
sect.  Thus  Shravaks  with  a Vishnuite  Sheth  will  entrust 
their  moneys  to  the  Shravak  Sheth  of  another  guild,  lest  their 
own  Vishnuite  Sheth  expend  them  for  a temple  rather  than 
for  the  Shravak  Pinjra  Pol  (asylum  for  decrepit  animals). 
As  for  this,  it  shows  how  religious  is  the  community,  but  it 
may  be  observed  that  the  people  are  as  conservative  as  they 
are  religious,  and  though  in  a Shravak  environment  it  some- 
times happens  that  a Vishnuite  Sheth  finds  his  guild  slowly 
becoming  Shravak,  yet  he  never  thinks  of  relinquishing  his 
position  on  this  account,  nor  does  the  Shravak  majority  think 
of  ousting  him.  1 

1 The  city  Mahajans  are  usually  made  up  of  Lohanas  and  Bhatias,  as  well 
as  Vanias,  though,  properly  speaking,  the  last  should  include  the  first  two. 
But  Vanias  in  common  parlance  are  bankers  and  cloth-merchants  of  the  Shra- 
vaks, that  is,  laymen  of  the  Jain  faith,  or  trading  Brahmans,  such  as  Meshris, 
who  are  found  in  some  localities ; while  Lohanas  are  Vishnuite  grain-dealers 
(the  poorer  sort  being  husbandmen),  as  are  the  Bhatias. 


186 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


AUTHORITY  OF  THE  SHETH  IN  COUNCIL. 

The  guilds  have  been  growing  steadily  more  democratic, 
and  in  matters  other  than  the  election  of  a Sheth  not  infre- 
quently stand  out  against  the  decision  of  the  Sheth  and 
Council.  Half  a dozen  leading  members  of  the  trade  make 
the  council  (though  the  number  is  not  fixed),  and  these  with 
the  Sheth  are  recognized  as  guild-men  apt  to  work  for  the 
interest  of  the  whole  body,  so  that  there  is  no  natural  antago- 
nism between  guild  and  leaders.  The  Sheth  and  Council 
are,  as  it  were,  the  president  and  cabinet  of  the  guild.  The 
interest  of  one  is  that  of  all,  and  in  ordinary  circumstances 
there  is  a ready  acquiescence  on  the  part  of  the  whole  guild 
in  any  measure  brought  forward  by  the  Sheth  and  supported 
by  the  Council.  But  occasions  do  arise  when  the  whole  body 
stand  in  conflict  with  their  officers.  The  venerable  men  who 
“ remembered  ” for  me  assured  me  that  in  the  good  old  days 
a guild  never  objected  to  any  measure  proposed  by  the  Sheth 
and  Council.  But  in  these  days  many  wish  to  adopt  “per- 
ilous modern  methods,”  others  think  that  they  ought  to  be 
consulted,  and  still  others  “ take  eveiy  opportunity  to  object 
to  authority.”  Only  twenty  years  ago,  as  may  be  seen  in 
Mr.  Lely’s  report  already  referred  to,  it  was  possible  to  state 
truly  that  the  Sheth  and  Council  have  virtually  the  whole 
authority.  The  rather  unwilling  admission  of  my  informants 
(it  must  be  remembered  that  they  were  all  Sheths  and  Patels) 
tends  to  show  that  this  is  no  longer  the  case.  I was  in  fact 
rather  mournfully  assured  by  various  members  of  the  confer- 
ence that  “ a majority  of  ordinary  members  of  the  guild  al- 
ways can,  and  often  do,  carry  a measure  over  the  heads  of 
Sheths  and  Council.”  In  less  guild-ridden  towns  and  cities 
I was  told  that  Sheths  were  now  without  much  power,  and 
even  the  Sheth  and  Council  combined  had  only  an  advisory 
function.  But  it  was  everywhere  recognized  that  this  was  a 
changed  condition,  and  that  formerly  the  advice  of  the  Sheth 
was  practically  law  to  the  guild. 


ANCIENT  AND  MODERN  HINDU  GUILDS.  187 


OFFICIALS  AND  MEETINGS. 

The  only  officer  besides  the  Sheth  is  the  Gumasta  or  clerk, 
who  in  the  case  of  the  great  Mahajans  calls  the  meetings  and 
acts  as  secretary.  The  title  really  means  an  agent,  and  the 
Gumasta  acts  in  this  capacity  in  so  far  as  he  is  authorized  to 
drum  up  recreant  members  and  urge  them  to  attend  the  meet- 
ings. The  Gumasta,  if  one  exists  (for  there  is  often  no  such 
officer),  receives  a salary ; but  no  Sheth  or  councillor  receives 
a salary  or  accepts  any  money  in  his  official  capacity,  unless 
it  be  the  Sheth  of  a Mahajan  in  a small  country  town,  who 
may  receive  a fixed  sum  for  collecting  fees  imposed  by  the 
government  on  his  own  and  other  local  guilds. 

The  duties  of  the  clerk  consist  also  in  collecting  moneys 
and  keeping  accounts,  but  he  must  discover  and  report  trans- 
gressions on  the  part  of  members  and  “ execute  any  order 
that  may  be  given  on  the  part  of  the  corporation.”  To  this 
description  of  the  clerk’s  functions  (furnished  by  Mr.  Lely, 
loc.  cit.,  p.  107)  I am  unable  to  add  anything  of  importance. 

The  meetings  of  the  guild  are  held  in  the  local  Yadi  or 
guild-hall ; the  clerk  calls  the  meeting  at  the  request  of  the 
Sheth  or  of  any  other  influential  member  of  the  guild  or  on 
the  demand  of  ordinary  members.  There  does  not  seem  to 
be  any  regular  practice  in  this  respect.  The  conference  said 
simply  that  when  a meeting  was  wanted  by  any  important 
person  or  demanded  by  several  members  there  was  a meeting. 
Meetings  are  not  held  at  stated  intervals,  but  as  occasion  pre- 
sents itself.  If  there  is  no  clerk,  the  Sheth  calls  the  meeting 
(when  requested  to  do  so),  sending  a written  or  verbal  mes- 
sage to  the  different  members.  If  there  is  no  guild-hall,  any 
convenient  room,  as  in  the  house  or  shop  of  one  of  the  mem- 
bers, is  selected  for  the  meeting.  So  far  as  I could  learn, 
there  is  an  utter  absence  of  formality  at  these  meetings,  and 
no  parliamentary  rules  are  followed. 


188 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


MEMBERS  AND  FEES. 

As  occupation  usually  goes  by  caste,  any  member  of  a caste 
engaged  in  a certain  occupation  is,  ipso  facto , a member  of  the 
guild.  In  small  towns  there  is  often  no  entrance  fee  in  arti- 
san guilds,  but  the  Mahajans  exact  one  from  new  members. 
All  sons,  however,  of  a deceased  member,  without  paying  an 
entrance  fee,  become  members  of  the  guild  on  his  decease, 
and  are  received  into  the  guild  without  formality.  Member- 
ship is  a family  right  which,  once  acquired,  is  inherited.  But 
from  other  new  members  an  entrance  fee  is  demanded,  which 
varies  from  one  hundred  to  three  hundred  and  fifty  rupees. 
A fair  average  of  the  fees  of  the  more  important  guilds  is 
three  hundred  rupees,  or  about  one  hundred  dollars.  But 
the  borders-guild  of  Ahmedabad  has  a fee  of  only  two  hun- 
dred rupees.  Three  hundred  are  demanded  by  the  cloth- 
guild  ; several  guilds  demand  three  hundred  and  fifty ; and 
even  five  hundred  was  quoted  as  a possible  fee,  but  no  guild 
represented  at  the  conference  admitted  that  its  fee  was  so 
high  as  this.  Some  of  the  artisan-guilds  ask  a fee  of  one 
rupee  as  matter  of  form,  but  their  fee  is  generally  a dinner- 
party. The  fee,  though  usually  the  same  for  all,  may  be 
partly  remitted  in  tire  case  of  a desirable  member  who  is  too 
poor  to  pay  the  large  sum  demanded  by  some  guilds. 

A discredited  member  may  not  return  to  the  guild  when 
once  cast  out  (by  vote  of  the  guild).  If  his  offence  is  a 
caste-offence  his  children  are  debarred  from  admission.  The 
practice  varies  in  different  localities.  In  Jeypur,  for  exam- 
ple, a member  is  not  dismissed,  but  he  is  allowed  to  drop  out 
of  the  guild.  Here  too  the  sons  may  enter,  though  the  father 
has  been  informally  ostracized.  When  the  father  has  dropped 
out  on  account  of  poverty,  the  son  that  has  prospered  and 
desires  to  enter  the  guild  may  do  so,  “ not  usually  at  once, 
but  after  some  years.”  There  is  no  rule  on  the  subject.  It  is 
largely  a social  question.  If  a member  changes  his  business, 
he  of  course  leaves  the  guild,  but  he  may  be  reinstated  if  he 
resumes  it.  A change  of  trade  or  business  is  not  unusual, 


ANCIENT  AND  MODERN  HINDU  GUILDS.  189 


nor  was  it  so  in  ancient  times,  though  our  notions  of  caste 
based  on  the  law-books  lead  us  to  think  so.  As  to  a new 
entrance  fee  from  reinstated  members,  in  Ahmedabad  the 
general  opinion  was  that  it  was  not  customary  to  demand  it. 
But  in  case  a discredited  or  dropped  member  dies,  while  it  is 
permitted  to  his  sons,  it  is  not  permitted  to  his  grandsons  to 
enter  without  a fee.  If  a member  fails  he  is  not  dropped 
on  this  account.  The  guild  investigate  his  business,  and  if 
it  is  found  that  he  has  failed  dishonorably,  he  is  dropped ; 
if  honorably,  “ the  creditors  in  the  guild  accept  a part  of  the 
debt  and  help  him  to  tide  over  his  difficulties  when  he  repays 
all.  But  the  funds  of  the  guild  are  never  used  for  this  pur- 
pose.” In  this  particular  there  is  a difference  between  the 
guilds  of  ancient  times  (when  it  is  expressly  stated  that 
they  help  their  needy  members)  and  of  to-day,  when  all  the 
funds  are  devoted  to  religious  charity.  No  Sheth  of  the 
conference  would  admit  that  any  guild-money  was  ever  spent 
on  a member  of  the  guild,  however  much  he  might  need  it. 
Nor  does  the  guild  care  for  the  needy  families  of  deceased 
members. 

The  dinner-party  fee  of  artisan  guilds  is  not  always  the 
rule.  In  Broach,  for  instance,  the  bricklayers  demand  a 
small  fee  of  each  new  member.  But  generally  the  family  (or 
it  may  be  the  caste  Panchayat)  raises  money  enough  to  give 
a dinner  to  the  rest  of  the  guild.  The  rite  constitutes  the 
entrance  fee,  and  is  the  only  formality  observed.  This  ap- 
plies only  to  those  who  have  learned  a new  trade  different 
from  their  father’s,  and  are  hence  obliged  to  enter  a new 
guild. 

In  many  cases  there  is  no  fee  at  all.  Thus  in  Bhaunagar 
and  in  Jeypur,  one  in  Gujarat  and  one  in  Rajputana,  there 
is  no  fee.  It  is  customary  only  where  the  guilds  are  most 
stringent  in  their  rule  and  most  conservative.  There  is  no 
annual  subscription  (though  Mr.  Lely  says  there  is),  and  con- 
sequently there  are  no  arrears  to  be  paid. 


190 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


FIXES,  REVENUES,  EXPENDITURES. 

Fines  are  imposed  for  non-observance  of  the  rules  of  the 
guild.  This  is  found  to  apply  chiefly  to  the  matter  of  holi- 
days. Every  caste  and  guild  has  its  stated  holidays,  and  any 
member  that  keeps  open  shop  or  works  on  such  a day  is 
liable  to  a fine,  unless  he  has  bought  the  privilege.  A prime 
source  of  revenue  in  the  case  of  most  guilds  is  the  proceeds 
of  the  auction  sale  of  this  privilege.  The  fine  is  heavy  for 
violation  of  this  right  on  the  part  of  others  ; and  if  the  offence 
is  repeated,  the  delinquent  is  sometimes  expelled  rather 
summarily.  This  custom  of  auctioning  off  the  right  of 
not  keeping  a holiday  is  one  more  common  in  the  smaller 
towns. 

Large  guilds  get  revenue  also  from  purchases  of  the  mem- 
bers, on  which  a tax  is  levied.  One  quarter  of  one  per  cent, 
is  the  annual  impost,  but  when  paid  in  kind,  as  is  often  done, 
an  approximate  amount,  reckoned  roughly  according  to  this 
ratio,  is  taken  by  the  guild.  Thus  from  every  cart  bringing 
in  a load  of  grain,  a few  handfuls  are  taken  out  and  cast  in  a 
heap  at  the  city-gate.  There  is  no  precision  ; often  the  cart 
does  not  stop  at  all ; the  toll-man  puts  in  his  hand  and  takes 
out  a little,  not  enough  to  make  any  appreciable  difference  in 
the  load,  but  it  adds  to  the  slowly  accumulating  heap  at  the 
gate.  The  law  is  strict,  but  its  observance  is  kept  more  in 
the  spirit  than  in  the  letter  of  the  per  cent.  It  must  be  re- 
membered that  it  is  all  for  religious  charity  (the  funds  of  the 
guild  are  devoted  to  this  object  solely),  and  the  exact  amount 
is  of  small  importance.  I fancy,  however,  that  the  very 
precise  rules  in  regard  to  king’s  toll  in  the  old  law-books  were 
probably  interpreted  much  in  the  same  loose  way. 

When  the  article  taxed  is  not  payable  in  kind,  the  tax 
assumes  a more  formidable  appearance.  In  Bhaunagar  there 
is  such  a tax  (about  ten  cents  on  every  bale  of  cotton)  levied 
b}r  the  manufacturers’  guild.  So  in  Broach,  the  Mahajan’s 
chief  revenue  is  said  to  be  from  a similar  tax  on  every  bale. 
This  is  sometimes  as  high  as  a quarter  of  a dollar.  All  bills 


ANCIENT  AND  MODERN  HINDU  GUILDS.  191 


of  exchange  negotiated  by  a banker  are  taxed  in  the  same 
way,  the  tax  in  this  case  being  about  ten  cents. 

None  of  the  guilds  is  a provident  institution.  Regular  banks 
have  done  away  with  their  old  function  of  trust  companies, 
and  they  usually  spend  their  moneys  at  once,  in  the  case  of 
small  guilds  on  dinner-parties,  in  the  case  of  Mahajans  on 
Pinjra  Pols  (asylums  for  animals)  and  temples.  But  if  there 
is  anything  on  hand,  the  moneys  are  credited  to  the  corpora- 
tion at  the  local  bank.  The  large  guilds  sometimes  possess 
considerable  real  estate,  which  has  come  to  them  in  the  shape 
of  gifts,  and  they  are  often  the  beneficiaries  of  rich  members, 
who  give  to  them  in  the  knowledge  that  they  will  expend 
principal  or  interest  (as  desired)  for  their  pet  charities. 
Where  there  is  a loose  organization,  as  in  Jeypur,  without 
fees  or  assessments,  money  for  charity  is  collected  by  sub- 
scription. In  Surat,  on  the  other  hand,  where  the  organiza- 
tion is  perfect,  fees  and  taxes  come  in  so  regularly  that  the 
members  seldom  give  directly  for  any  charity.1 

I was  told  that  on  an  average  over  fifty  per  cent,  of  the 
whole  income  of  a guild  went  regularly  to  charity.  The  old 
rule  was  that  the  local  Pinjra  Pol  of  Ahmedabad,  for  instance, 
should  receive  one  quarter  of  one  per  cent,  on  all  goods  pur- 
chased by  any  member  of  the  guild.  This  rule  is  not  now  so 
strictly  observed,  but  some  guilds,  as,  for  example,  the  gold- 
thread guild,  still  holds  to  this  rule.  Other  guilds  spread 
their  charity  over  more  general  ground,  giving  part  to  one 
object,  part  to  another.  In  some  cases,  again,  there  is  no 
such  tax  at  all.  It  is  a matter  which  is  decided  by  each  guild 
for  itself  annually.  Thus  the  chief  confectioner  said  that  in 
his  business  a tax  was  levied  on  all  purchases  of  sugar  and 
condensed  milk,  but  the  amount  of  the  tax  and  the  disposition 
of  the  moneys  when  collected  were  matters  settled  by  the 
guild  once  a year.  He  asserted  too  that  for  the  last  year  the 
rate  had  been  eight  annas  on  one  hundred  rupees,  but  this 
would  be  half  of  one  per  cent.,  and  some  of  the  other  mem- 


1 Compare  also  the  Bombay  Gazetteer,  vol.  ii.  pp.  321,  442. 


192 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


bers  of  the  conference  looked  so  astonished  at  the  statement 
that  I came  to  the  conclusion  he  was  exaggerating,  to  give  a 
good  opinion  of  the  charitable  work  of  his  guild.  In  the  case 
of  the  cloth-merchants  I was  told  that  one  quarter  of  one  per 
cent,  was  a fixed  amount  (not  settled  annually)  deducted  for 
charitable  and  religious  purposes,  and  that  the  rest  of  the 
money  on  hand  was  spent  for  the  guild  “ at  the  discretion  of 
the  Council.”  The  funds  are  sometimes  spent  for  serai- 
religious  purposes,  such  as  are  urged  as  worthy  charities  in 
the  ancient  texts,  — tanks,  shade-trees,  fountains,  rest-houses, 
etc.  Thus  at  Junagadh  the  goldsmiths’  guild  has  built  a 
dharmafala ; that  is,  a house  wThere  pilgrims  can  be  put  up 
over  night.  There  is  a fine  dharmapdla  at  Jeypur,  built  in 
the  same  way.  In  small  places  in  Gujarat  all  spare  funds 
are  usually  given  to  Pinjra  Pols  by  the  Shravak  guilds  and  to 
temples  by  the  Yishnuite  guilds.  I was  curious  to  know 
what  happened  with  the  funds  of  a mixed  guild,  and  was  told 
that  “ the  amount  for  each  sect  is  decided  upon  amicably  by 
the  council.”  When  nothing  special  is  required  and  the 
Pinjra  Pol  and  temples  are  in  a flourishing  condition,  there  is 
always  the  outlet  of  a dinner-party,  so  that  funds  never  accu- 
mulate. The  artisan-guilds  do  not  appear  to  give  much  in 
charity,  preferring  to  spend  their  small  income  on  an  annual 
guild-picnic.  I was  told  that  in  Surat  the  difference  is  most 
marked.  Here  all  the  Mahajans  spend  their  money  on  charity 
and  all  the  artisan-guilds  spend  theirs  on  picnics.  Where,  as 
is  often  the  case  in  Kathiawar,  the  caste  and  guild  are  identi- 
cal, these  picnics  are  merely  family  reunions.  Besides  the 
food,  new  pots  and  kettles  and  dishes  are  bought  for  each 
picnic.  It  is  seldom,  however,  that  artisan-guilds  have  any 
money  to  spend.1 

1 Mr.  Proctor-Sims,  in  the  Bombay  Gazetteer,  vol.  viii.  p.  265,  mentions  as 
objects  of  charity,  feeding  the  poor,  Pinjra  Pols,  dharmas^alas,  cattle-troughs, 
and  water-sheds  or  parabs.  He  says  that  artisan-guilds  usually  spend  all  they 
get  for  dinners  and  cooking  utensils.  This  I found  to  be  true  everywhere  in 
Gujarat,  but  not  elsewhere.  But,  as  I have  already  stated,  the  Sheths  at  the 
conference  said  that  they  never  gave  guild-money  to  the  poor  for  food  or  for 
anything  else,  save  as  the  poor  benefited  by  the  erection  of  fountains,  etc. 


ANCIENT  AND  MODERN  HINDU  GUILDS.  193 


JURISDICTION  OF  THE  GUILDS. 

To  fix  trade-holidays,  to  enforce  their  observance,  and  to 
collect  and  administer  the  funds  of  the  guilds,  are  functions 
to  which  I have  already  referred.  The  right  to  arbitrate  is 
assumed  by  all  guilds.  When  a trade  quarrel  is  referred  to  a 
Mahajan,  or  when  the  Mahajan,  without  being  requested, 
decides  a quarrel,  this  is  the  final  arbitrament.  Refusal  to 
abide  by  it  or  indeed  to  carry  out  any  decision  arrived  at  (as 
in  the  case  of  payments  thus  adjudicated)  results  in  ostracism. 
When  a member  is  thus  cut  off  from  the  guild  he  may  be 
ostracized  by  the  caste.  In  the  latter  case  he  becomes  a social 
pariah,  more  wretched  than  a village  dog.  But  even  if  one  is 
only  cast  out  of  the  guild,  one  is  often,  ipso  facto , outcasted. 
In  the  country,  such  an  outlaw  is  debarred  from  all  social 
recognition.  No  man  will  work  with  him  or  for  him,  nor  will 
any  one  employ  him.  In  the  cities,  no  dealer  will  serve  him, 
no  broker  will  act  for  him,  no  servant  will  remain  in  his 
house.  The  carpenter,  the  baker,  the  confectioner,  the  black- 
smith, the  tile-maker,  the  very  potter,  lowest  of  the  lowly, 
refuse  to  take  his  orders,  deliver  goods  to  him,  or  perform  any 
service  for  him  at  any  price.  Caste  here  has  yielded  entirely 
to  the  guild.  The  rule  established  by  a low-caste  corporation 
may  involve  such  ostracism  in  the  case  of  the  highest  caste, 
but  it  is  enforced  regardless  of  caste.  A typical  instance  is 
cited  by  Mr.  Proctor-Sims.  In  1878,  in  a small  town  in 
Kathiawar,  the  Vania  Mahajan  levied  a religious  tax  which 
the  traders  of  the  Brahman  caste  refused  to  pay.  The  Vania 
guild,  therefore,  boycotted  the  Brahman  traders  and  forbade 
all  dealings  with  them,  till  the  high-caste  traders  yielded  and 
paid  the  tax. 

In  small  places,  the  Mahajan  is  thus  absolute  master  of  the 
town.  No  individual  can  stand  against  his  local  guild  ; nor 
where  there  are  several  small  guilds  which  form  a Mahajan 
can  a whole  guild  resist  the  union.  Owing  to  the  number  of 
traders  and  workmen  in  large  towns  who  do  not  belong  to 
guilds,  the  power  there  is  not  so  great,  but  it  is  generally 

13 


194 


INDIA  OLD  AND  iY£T7. 


coercive.  Thus  in  Ahmedabad,  as  I was  told,  a banker  who 
had  half  his  house  tiled  got  into  a quarrel  with  a confectioner 
and  could  not  get  the  other  half  of  his  house  tiled  till  the 
sweetmeat-guild  had  told  the  tile-guild  that  it  might  resume 
work  for  the  representative  of  the  bankers’  guild. 

The  artisan-guilds  are  practically  more  powerful  in  this  way 
than  are  the  more  aristocratic  Mahajans  of  large  cities.  For 
there  are  a dozen  cases  where  the  artisans  are  able  to  mar  the 
serenity  of  a banker's  life  against  one  where  the  banker 
would  be  apt  to  exercise  power  over  the  artisan.  The  whole 
Ahmedabad  conference  stated  publicly  (and  different  members 
of  the  conference  assured  me  privately  after  the  meeting  was 
over)  that  despite  the  annoyance,  this  was  “ all  for  the  public 
good.”  Even  the  victims  regard  themselves  as  martyrs  in  a 
good  cause,  and  think  themselves  protected  where  they  are 
tyrannized  over. 

I submitted  the  following  questions  to  the  conference  in  re- 
gard to  other  matters  of  jurisdiction : In  the  case  of  disburse- 
ment of  funds,  if  the  guild  objects  to  expenditures  proposed  by 
the  Sheth  and  Council,  what  action  is  taken  ? Does  the  guild 
alter  prices  and  the  rates  of  wages  ? Does  it  decide  what  shall 
be  the  number  of  working-hours  ? Does  it  prohibit  or  give 
formal  sanction  to  improvements  ? 

In  answer  to  the  first  question,  I was  told  that  “ there  would 
probably  be  no  such  objection  ; but  if  there  were,  the  Sheth 
would  talk  with  the  members  of  the  guild  and  induce  them 
to  change  their  opinion,  or  there  would  be  an  amicable  com- 
promise.” The  chief  question  would  be  whether  Shravak 
funds  should  all  go  for  Shravak  charities.  In  Ahmedabad 
itself  a normal  proportion  is  observed  between  Shravak  and 
Vishnuite  expenditures,  but  the  exclusive  use  of  sectarian 
funds  for  sectarian  purposes  is  not  countenanced.  In  other 
towns,  particularly  smaller  towns,  the  latter  is  the  rule. 

In  regard  to  prices,  I was  informed  that  in  Mahajans  they 
were  regulated  only  in  the  grain-guild.  In  cloth-guilds,  for  in- 
stance, two  men  of  the  same  guild  may  sit  side  by  side  in  the 
bazaar  and  sell  the  same  kind  of  cloth  at  different  prices.  But 


ANCIENT  AND  MODERN  HINDU  GUILDS.  195 


wages  are  fixed  by  the  guild,  though  in  places  where  modern 
manufactories  are  found,  wages  are  regulated  to  a great  extent 
by  the  action  of  the  factory-owners,  who  are  usually  not  mem- 
bers of  a guild.  Both  in  Gujarat  and  in  Rajputana,  the  mill- 
owners  operate  against  the  guilds  as  a general  thing,  though 
they  are  sometimes  guild-men. 

The  method  of  fixing  the  rate  of  wages  and  keeping  it  there 
without  protest  is  very  simple.  It  is  the  practice  to  advance 
a certain  sum  to  every  workman  at  the  beginning  of  his  term 
of  service.  As  his  wages  give  him  just  enough  to  live  on,  he 
can  never  save  enough  to  repay  the  loan,  or  if  he  could  he  is 
usually  so  improvident  that  he  does  not  do  so.  If  he  asks  for 
more  wages,  his  employer  refuses  the  request.  If  he  says  he 
will  leave  unless  he  gets  more,  the  employer  replies,  “Very 
well ; but  first  pay  me  what  you  owe.”  The  result  is  that  the 
man  remains  at  the  old  wage.  When  an  employer  wants  to 
pay  extra  wages  to  induce  a special  workman  to  enter  his  em- 
ploy, the  employer  “ must  ask  the  guild  about  it  and  abide  by 
their  decision.” 

In  a Panch,  price  and  wages  are  ordinarily  fixed  by  the 
guild  and  also  the  number  of  working-hours.  On  these  points 
the  guilds  act  in  combination  and  especially  combine  against 
outside  competition.  “ The  lowest  rate  allowed  by  the  local 
guild  ” may  not  be  altered.  If  outsiders  come  in  and  work  for 
less  than  this,  it  is  the  duty  of  the  members  of  guilds  on  which 
the  workmen  are  dependent  to  refuse  either  to  work  for  them 
or  to  supply  them  with  the  means  of  their  trade.  Thus  if  a 
confectioner  should  sell  sugar-cakes  at  less  than  the  permitted 
rate,  the  guild  that  supplied  him  with  sugar  would  cease  to 
do  so ; if  a tile-maker  should  work  for  less  wage,  the  guild 
supplying  his  material  would  boycott  him,  etc.  So  in  regard 
to  working  over-hours  ; though  here  there  is  this  license,  that 
if  a man  wishes  to  work  over-time  the  guild  will  not  ordina- 
rily object,  provided  there  is  enough  work  for  all  to  do.  But 
otherwise  the  rule  is  very  strict.  When  work  is  scarce,  a fine 
is  imposed  by  the  guild  on  any  one  that  works  more  than  the 
permitted  time. 


196 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


Incidentally  I inquired  at  this  point  whether  the  guilds 
took  cognizance  of  disputes  between  employer  and  employed 
when  the  former  alleged  unsatisfactory  work  as  a reason  for 
dismissing  the  workmen  employed.  I was  told  that  the  guild 
“ took  action  in  regard  to  every  grievance  and  had  jurisdiction 
over  everything.”  A case  “ remembered  ” was  as  follows  : 
“ Some  years  ago  I (a  merchant  Sheth)  discharged  a carpenter 
who  did  unsatisfactory  work.  The  carpenter-guild  refused  to 
let  any  workman  work  on  the  house  till  the  incompetent  car- 
penter was  taken  hack.”  I then  asked  the  Sheth  whether  he 
considered  guilds  in  general  to  be  advantageous  or  disadvan- 
tageous to  the  common  weal.  “ They  are  very  advantageous,” 
he  replied,  “ though  their  action  is  sometimes  open  to  criticism. 
In  this  case  I was  the  sufferer,  but  the  carpenters  acted  for  their 
own  best  interests,  and  they  cannot  be  severely  blamed.” 

The  conference  denied  that  the  guilds  ever  exerted  them- 
selves actively  against  modern  improvements.  A case  cited 
from  the  beginning  of  the  century  (1820,  Dunlap,  apud  Lely, 
p.  Ill)  indicates  the  spirit  of  opposition  that  used  to  obtain; 
but  though  a certain  unfriendliness  to  modern  methods  wras  per- 
haps to  be  suspected  from  casual  remarks  of  some  of  the  older 
members  of  the  conference,  I was  unable  to  elicit  more  than  a 
general  statement  to  the  effect  that  “ guilds  never  object  to 
improvements,  but  are  the  first  to  sanction  them,”  which  is 
doubtless  true  when  the  word  “ improvements  ” is  defined  as 
it  was  meant,  and  may  perhaps  be  a correct  statement  in  any 
circumstances. 

As  the  guild  controls  the  output  of  energy  in  the  workman, 
so  it  controls  the  output  of  the  merchant’s  wares.  Whether 
goods  might  be  sold  out  of  town  was  a question  which  the 
guilds  of  Jeypur  refused  to  answer  (in  view  of  the  famine), 
but  in  Ahmedabad  the  grain-dealers  decided  it  the  day  before 
the  conference,  determining  that  no  grain  might  be  sold  out 
of  town.  At  the  same  time  they  raised  the  price  of  the  chief 
staple  by  ordering  that  only  sixteen  pounds  instead  of  twenty- 
four  pounds  should  be  sold  for  a rupee.  I may  add  that,  though 
the  general  government  refuses  to  regulate  trade,  it  does  not 


ANCIENT  AND  MODERN  HINDU  GUILDS.  197 


prohibit  such  regulation  on  the  part  of  the  guilds  or  on  the 
part  of  local  governments.  In  extra-British  territory  it  is 
customary.  Thus  the  Nizam  of  Hyderabad  regulated  the  out- 
put of  grain  during  the  famine. 

Rates  of  exchange  and  insurance  (in  the  case  of  Mahajans), 
and  rates  of  sale  and  amount  of  marketable  material  which 
may  be  made  by  each  artisan,  are  always  settled  in  advance  by 
the  respective  guilds. 

Despite  the  fact  that  the  jurisdiction  of  a guild  generally 
extends  over  members  of  other  guilds,  by  virtue  of  the  mutual 
support  given  by  all  such  organizations,  it  not  infrequently 
happens  that  the  guilds  quarrel  among  themselves.  There  is 
then  no  power  to  adjust  the  difference,  and  a battle  of  guilds  is 
fought  out,  usually  by  manoeuvres  rather  than  by  force.  A case 
on  record  in  one  of  the  small  towns  of  Kathiawar  is  as  follows : 
A sweeper,  having  been  insulted  by  a merchant,  got  his  guild 
to  refuse  to  sweep  for  the  member  of  the  local  Mahajan.  The 
Mahajan  promptly  got  the  grain-dealers  to  refuse  to  sell  grain 
to  the  sweepers.  When  starved  out,  the  sweepers  swept  again. 
In  another  town,  the  Mahajan  objected  to  the  action  of  the 
potters,  who  had  raised  the  price  of  pots.  The  potters  stood 
firm  and  seemed  likely  to  win,  till  the  Mahajan  bought  the 
right  to  dig  clay  in  the  village  lands.  They  then  had  the 
potters  at  their  mercy,  and  the  price  of  pots  resumed  its 
old  level. 

When  the  Mahajan  is  not  identical  with  the  village  Pan- 
chayat,  elders  of  the  village,  the  power  is  divided,  and  in  this 
case  it  is  doubtful  which  party  will  win  the  war  of  tricks. 
But  in  most  villages  the  Panchayat  consists  of  members  of  the 
Mahajan,  when  its  power  is  quite  absolute.  Thus  in  one  town 
in  the  north  of  Kathiawar,  the  Panchayat,  thinking  that  chol- 
era, which  had  broken  out,  was  caused  by  witchcraft,  deter- 
mined to  burn  all  the  houses  where  the  magic  influence  had 
shown  itself.  The  owners  of  the  houses  never  thought  of  re- 
sisting the  order,  and  the  whole  plague-district  was  burned  up, 
without  compensation  to  the  owners,  at  the  command  of  the 
Panchayat. 


198 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


SATTAS. 

Sattas  are  time-bargains  in  the  grain-market,  corresponding 
to  our  “ futures.”  The  grain  guild  takes  cognizance  of  these 
bargains  and  arbitrates  in  all  disputes  arising  from  them 
between  members.  The  price  of  grain  is  regulated  daily  by 
the  guild,  and  the  assumed  value  of  grain  on  a given  day  is 
fixed  in  the  interest  of  time-bargains  or  stock-gambling. 

There  is  another  mode  of  gambling,  very  popular  in  north- 
ern India,  known  as  Kabalas,  or  rain-bargains,  but  these  are 
not  recognized  by  any  guild.  They  are  simply  a method  of 
betting  on  the  time  when  rain  will  fall,  “ real  rain”  being  es- 
timated by  a continuous  flow  from  a certain  house-gutter, 
which  a watchman  is  stationed  to  watch.  These  bets  are 
regularly  entered,  but  they  are  regarded  as  private  affairs  like 
any  gambling  bets,  and  failure  to  pay  such  a bet  is  not  offi- 
cially recognized.1 

GUILDS  AS  COURTS  OF  LAW. 

It  will  have  been  observed  that  the  jurisdiction  of  the 
guilds  relieves  the  local  courts  of  a good  deal  of  business. 
Disputes  which  in  the  Occident  would  be  settled  by  a legal 
appeal  are  in  the  land  of  guilds  settled  by  the  societies  of  the 
disputants.  In  small  towns,  the  Mahajan  is  usually  the  ac- 
cepted referee  in  all  petty  disputes.  In  cities,  on  the  other 
hand,  trade  disputes  are  often  brought  into  court  only  to  be 
referred  back  by  the  court  to  the  Mahajan  for  settlement. 
This,  I was  told,  is  frequently  the  case  in  Jeypur  and  in 
other  cities  under  native  rule. 

Small  guilds,  again,  are  in  the  habit  of  appealing  to  the 
great  guilds,  Mahajans,  when  the  former  quarrel  among 
themselves.  This  is  particularly  true  in  small  places,  where 

1 The  Kabalas  stand  to  the  Hindu  in  the  place  of  card-debts  or  racing- 
debts,  and  are  so  important  a vice  that  in  1897  the  government  sought  to  stop 
them  by  law.  To  this  the  Hindus  of  Calcutta  retorted  that  so  long  as  the 
British  were  allowed  to  bet  on  horses,  they  would  claim  the  right  to  bet  on  rain, 
and  I believe  the  matter  was  not  pressed.  There  is  a description  of  this  fasci- 
nating excitement  in  the  Bombay  Gazetteer,  vol.  viii.  p.  209. 


ANCIENT  AND  MODERN  HINDU  GUILDS.  199 


the  grain-dealers,  grocery-dealers,  and  tobacco-dealers  ( i . e ., 
the  usual  Mahajan)  stand  in  social  antithesis  to  the  guilds  of 
the  petty  dealers  and  common  workmen,  representing  an  edu- 
cated intelligence  to  which  the  lowly  guilds  of  the  unedu- 
cated can  and  do  appeal  for  arbitration.  As  far  as  1 could 
learn,  the  matters  thus  brought  before  the  Mahajans  are 
settled  fairly  and  satisfactorily,  and  there  is  seldom  any  com- 
plaint of  injustice.  Custom  gives  force  to  this  arbitrament, 
and  appeal  is  rarely  taken  from  a decision  of  the  Mahajan. 
Occasionally,  but  not  often,  disputants  engage  their  respective 
guilds  in  a dispute  without  interesting  the  guilds  in  it.  In 
such  a case,  instead  of  referring  to  the  Mahajan  the  nominally 
opposed  guilds  will  appoint  a council  or  committee  to  settle 
the  dispute.  In  a small  village  where  there  is  no  Mahajan, 
the  Patel  is  the  referee  in  disputes  among  members  of  any 
artisan  guild.1 

POWER  OF  THE  GUILDS. 

The  power  of  the  guilds  is  rapidly  declining.  At  present 
their  ancient  control,  which  it  is  evident  was  exercised  not 
only  two  thousand  years  ago,  but  until  very  recently,  is  pre- 
served only  in  a few  places.  In  Gujarat  the  guilds  are  at 
their  strongest,  and  are  best  represented  in  the  city  of 
Ahmedabad ; in  Rajputana  the  power  of  the  guilds  is  much 
less  than  in  Gujarat,  and  in  some  of  the  cities  of  this  district 
is  almost  nominal.  Jeypur  is  an  example  of  the  intermediate 
position  of  the  guilds,  where  they  still  exist,  but  do  not  exer- 
cise the  powers  they  have  in  Gujarat;  while  Oodeypur, 
another  city  of  Rajputana,  shows  a still  weaker  organization, 
for  there  is  here  no  attempt  to  regulate  trade  or  wages,  and 
the  nomenclature  is  changing  to  the  purely  conventional  use 
of  Mahajan  (as  the  title  of  an  individual),  such  as  is  found  in 
the  eastern  districts.  In  Ajmere,  which  is  not  a native  state, 
there  is  practically  no  guild-power,  and  the  terms  Sheth  and 
Mahajan  have  only  a social  meaning. 

1 Compare  Mr.  Little’s  account  of  the  Panch  Mahals  in  the  third  volume  of 
the  Bombay  Gazetteer,  p.  251.  His  remarks  in  regard  to  the  referee  may  be 
generalized. 


200 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


Southwards,  the  guilds  have  a sort  of  loose  existence 
among  artisans  and  the  lowest  workmen  of  Bombay,  but  the 
modern  emporia,  Bombay  and  Calcutta,  have  grown  up  under 
influences  foreign  to  the  cultivation  of  guilds,  and  the  latter 
have  in  these  cities  the  appearance  of  weak  exotics.  During 
the  plague  some  of  these  Bombay  workmen’s  guilds  made  a 
stand  against  certain  sanitary  regulations,  but  they  could  not 
maintain  it.  In  Poona  there  are  no  Mahajans,  and  even  the 
Nagar  Sheth,  who  used  to  be  a power  there,  exists  no  longer. 
There  is  here  a sort  of  Panch  or  committee  of  all  trades. 
This  now  takes  the  place  of  the  council  of  chiefs,  which  used 
to  be  influential.  In  case  of  need  of  conference  or  mutual 
support  the  different  trades  confer  informally  and  may  unite 
in  combined  action,  but  there  is  no  real  organization  of 
guilds.  This  seems  to  be  about  the  southern  boundary  of 
the  guild-system,  as  Benares,  where  Mahajan  simply  means 
“ banker  ” and  the  guilds  are  only  loose  associations,  is  the 
eastern  limit. 

In  the  Punjab  the  country  villages  are  almost  guildless. 
There  is,  to  be  sure,  on  extraordinary  occasions,  a sort  of 
union  of  people  interested  in  business,  such  as  a mutual  agree- 
ment to  close  shops  as  a sign  of  popular  discontent,  or  some 
such  concert  of  action  for  a definite  cause,  but  there  is  no 
constant  union.  The  only  approach  to  the  dignity  of  Sheth 
and  Mahajan 1 is  an  agreement  on  the  part  of  grain-dealers  in 
regard  to  prices.  Similar  agreements  are  sometimes  made  by 
other  business  men  acting  as  a temporaiy  body,  but  not  as  a 
legal  corporation.  The  only  officer  in  the  lower  grades  of 
work  is  the  semi-governmental  Chaudhari  or  Head-man.  But 
this  Head-man's  office  is  merely  to  act  as  spokesman  for  men 
of  his  class  and  be  their  agent  in  dealing  with  the  government, 
especially  in  arranging  service  which  they  have  to  perform, 

1 The  word  “ Mahajan  ” is  here  synonymous  with  (any)  Vania.  It  is  inter- 
esting to  see  that  the  name  of  the  third  caste  is  still  retained  in  the  Punjab, 
where  Vania  interchanges  not  only  with  Mahajan,  but  also  with  Wesh,  i.  e. 
Vaifya,  the  old  name  for  merchant  (and  farmer).  — Census  Report,  1891,  i.  p. 
291. 


ANCIENT  AND  MODERN  HINDU  GUILDS.  201 


settling  the  terms  of  a contract,  etc.  As  an  agent,  he  may 
retain  a percentage  out  of  the  pay  of  the  men  who  do  the 
work  for  the  government.  Thus  the  shuturban  or  camel-driv- 
el's, cartmen,  dliooly-bearers,  and  such  workmen,  all  have  a 
Chaudhari,  who  in  some  respects  seems  like  the  Patel  of  a 
guild,  but  he  is  really  only  a Muccadum,  head-man  or  boss- 
workman.  There  is  of  course  a Panchayat,  but  that  is  con- 
cerned only  with  caste-matters,  and  the  term  is  not  used  of 
guilds  as  it  is  in  Gujarat. 

Eastwards,  in  the  Delhi  district  (now  called  Punjab), 
there  is  more  guild-organization,  but  without  solidarity.  A 
sort  of  caste  of  rich  merchants  is  all  that  the  Mahajans 
amount  to  in  the  Northwest  Provinces  generally,  but  only 
from  Delhi  to  Lucknow  has  the  word  its  western  meaning. 
Still  further  east  in  the  Northwest  Provinces,  and  along  the 
eastern  Ganges,  the  name  has  only  its  literal  signification. 
The  artisan-guilds  of  the  Northwest  Provinces  either  have 
not  developed  fully  or  are  a weak  imitation  of  Gujarat  models. 
A third  possibility  may  be,  however,  that  they  have  lost  power 
which  they  used  to  possess.  In  Oudh  they  were  formerly 
powerful,  but  now  they  are  often  nothing  but  castes.  In  some 
cases  the  guilds  have  actually  become  castes,  just  as  castes 
have  become  guilds.  For  occupation  has  produced  caste,  not, 
as  is  sometimes  claimed,  as  the  only  root  of  the  institution,  but 
as  one  factor  in  the  upbuilding  of  that  conglomerate  structure. 
The  word  NySt  or  caste  ( jati ) is  in  fact  sometimes  applied  to 
those  lower  artisan  guilds,  which  as  a collective  group  stand 
opposed  to  the  union  of  Vanias  and  Brahmans  (Mahajans). 
This  is  true  of  all  districts.  Thus  in  the  Kadi  division,  North 
Baroda,  there  is  often  no  distinction  between  guild  and  caste 
in  the  case  of  Nyats,  which  are  practically  dependent  on  the 
Mahajan.  The  latter  directs  and  commands  the  Nyats  and 
admits  to  its  consultation  only  the  latter’s  Patels.  Here  the 
real  guild  has  shown  its  power  over  the  pseudo-guild  of  the 
caste.1 

1 On  these  points  compare  further  the  Gazetteer  of  the  N.W.  Provinces,  vol. 
v.  pp.  47,  582  ; and  the  Bombay  Gazetteer,  vol.  vii.  p.  160 ; vol.  xviii.  p.  173.  In 
some  cases  the  Mahajan  even  fixes  the  wages  of  the  Nyat  workmen. 


202 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


STRIKES. 

The  guilds  often  go  on  a strike.  One  of  the  latest  cases 
was  in  the  spring  of  1897,  when  the  holalkhores,  or  cleaners, 
of  Bombay  refused  to  work  and  “ went  out  ” in  a body. 
Wages  and  working-hours  are  not  often  the  cause  of  strikes, 
but  religious  differences  and  fancied  injuries  to  feelings. 
Refusal  of  government  to  give  redress  when  a guild  considers 
itself  wronged  in  respect  of  taxation  sometimes  precipitates  a 
strike.  A few  years  ago  the  hand-loom  weavers  of  Ahmeda- 
bad  struck  on  a mixed  complaint  and  were  largely  replaced 
by  boys.  In  general,  lads  are  employed  to  a much  greater 
extent  than  with  us,  partly  on  account  of  the  smaller  wage 
given  to  boys,  and  partly  because  they  are  less  apt  to  give 
trouble.  One  of  the  largest  carpet-manufactories  in  Ahmeda- 
bad  employs  boys  altogether  with  the  exception  of  two  grown 
men. 

Religious  differences  have  caused  strikes  in  Kathiawar 
within  the  last  few  years,  as  has  been  recorded  by  Mr.  Proctor- 
Sims.  Thus  in  1845,  the  Vanias  of  Gondal  could  get  no 
redress  for  the  insult  offered  to  their  Hindu  feelings  by  the 
Mohammedan  butchers,  who  sold  meat  openly,  and  they  were 
driven  to  shut  up  shop  ; which  compelled  the  government  to 
pass  a rule  that  all  butchers  should  kill  secretly  and  sell  be- 
hind a screen,  — a provision  now  usually  observed  everywhere. 
On  the  other  hand,  twelve  years  later  the  Vanias  of  Dhoraji 
wounded  the  religious  feelings  of  the  Mohammedans.  The 
latter  killed  a few  Vanias,  and  the  state  in  turn  punished  the 
Mohammedan  ringleaders.  The  malcontents  struck  work  in 
a body  and  some  of  them  left  the  town ; but  their  strike  failed, 
as  the  government,  taking  the  side  of  the  Vanias,  ordered  all 
Mohammedans  to  leave  the  place.  This  was  too  much  for  the 
latter,  and  a reconciliation  took  place.  In  1881  a«sacred  cow 
was  wounded  by  some  Voharas,  and  as  nothing  was  done 
about  it,  the  Hindu  Vanias,  whose  feelings  had  been  outraged, 
struck  for  three  days  and  thus  forced  the  offender  to  be  im- 
prisoned. The  year  before  this,  the  barbers  of  Wadhwan 


ANCIENT  AND  MODERN  HINDU  GUILDS.  203 


struck  — a rare  event  — for  higher  wages.  But  this  strike 
failed  because  the  general  public  (i.  e.,  all  the  other  guilds) 
opposed  the  demand.  To  prevent  a fall  of  wages  a strike  has 
sometimes  been  ordered  by  the  councils  of  guilds  (acting 
together).  A case  of  this  kind  is  reported  by  Mr.  Little  in 
the  Panch  Mahals,1  but  such  a motive  appears  to  be  very 
unusual.  In  such  instances  the  guilds  form  a true  trade- 
union.  Strikes  of  a semi-religious  nature,  as,  for  instance, 
against  the  execution  of  sanitary  measures  regarded  as  re- 
ligiously offensive,  are  not  uncommon.  But,  as  sanitary 
measures  are  instituted  only  by  the  British,  when  the  offi- 
cials are  not  deterred  by  threats  such  strikes  usually  fail. 

THE  GUILD  AND  THE  STATE. 

It  is  clear  from  the  passage  on  guilds,  cited  above  from  the 
Sanskrit  epic,  that  in  ancient  times  there  was  a mutual  sup- 
port of  state  and  guild.  The  strict  advice  to  the  king  not  to 
provoke,  but  to  conciliate  the  guilds,  the  steady  increase  of 
power  which  is  portrayed  in  the  later  as  compared  with  the 
earlier  law-books  and  is  based  on  the  yielding  of  the  state  to 
the  demand  of  the  guilds  for  self-government,  — all  these 
items  of  growth  are  shown  to  us  in  the  extant  literature,  but 
the  connection  between  state  officials  and  the  guilds  is  left  to 
the  imagination  or  to  a posteriori  reasoning.  Judging,  how- 
ever, from  what  has  continually  happened  during  this  century, 
that  relation  cannot  be  very  doubtful.  Reciprocal  protection 
has  doubtless  always  figured  largely  as  a factor  in  the  mainte- 
nance of  the  power  of  the  guilds.  In  plain  English  I mean  a 
“ deal,”  hut  the  opprobrium  attaching  to  this  word  is  wanting 
when  the  synonym  is  employed,  and  there  is  in  fact  no  Ori- 
ental prejudice  which  would  suggest  immorality.  A state 
official  does  what  he  can  to  strengthen  the  hands  of  a rich  city 
corporation.  The  corporation,  on  the  other  hand,  would  not 
be  so  ungrateful  as  to  neglect  the  official’s  interest.  The  guild 
may  intrigue  for  him.  Or  it  may  be  a trifle  ; he  wants  some 


1 Bombay  Gazetteer.  yoI.  iii.  p.  251. 


204 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


cloth  dyed.  The  guild  sees  that  it  is  done  and  charges  noth- 
ing. Mr.  Lely,  loc.  oit.,  p.  107,  cites  cases  of  this  sort  which  oc- 
curred not  many  years  ago.  Of  course,  no  such  practices  are 
known  to-day.  The  conference,  when  asked  in  regard  to  re- 
ciprocal protection,  said  that  it  was  all  a thing  of  the  past.  In 
the  old  days  “ a favor  for  a favor  ” was  usual ; nowadays  favors 
were  neither  asked  nor  given.  The  only  relation  existing  be- 
tween state  and  guild  is  to-day  a union  of  guilds  (into  a sort  of 
trades-union)  to  protest  against  taxes  regarded  as  too  heavy. 
The  local  authorities  sometimes  help  out  the  guilds  in  this 
matter,  but  there  is  “no  bribery.”  The  first  part  of  this 
statement  agrees  with  what  Mr.  Proctor-Sims  says  in  the  re- 
port already  cited ; the  last  part  may  be  accepted  on  the 
evidence  of  the  honorable  Sheths  who  give  it.  The  only 
state  support  at  present  consists  in  fees  to  a local  Sheth  for 
collecting  trade  taxes. 

In  manufacturing  centres  where  modern  mills  are  in  opera- 
tion, there  is  often  but  a faint  reflection  of  old  conditions, 
even  in  Gujarat.  In  Ahmedabad  the  mills  have  influenced 
the  guilds,  but  the  latter  are  still  vigorous.  In  Bhaunagar, 
however,  a model  city  of  Gujarat,  in  the  heart  of  the  old 
guild  district,  there  are  mills  owned  by  a Hindu  whose  work- 
men are  mainly  Mohammedans,  and  there  is  no  guild  in  the 
old  sense,  though  the  term  “ Mahajan  ” is  employed.  But  the 
intercourse  between  master  and  men  is  one  of  a personal  rather 
than  of  a corporate  nature.  There  is  a Sheth,  but  the  office 
is  not  hereditary. 

This  breaking  up  of  old  conditions  is  seen  in  many  aspects 
of  contemporary  life,  notably  in  the  effacement  of  the  lines 
of  sect  and  caste.  I met  a gentleman  in  Oodeypur  who  told 
me  that  he  was  a Ivshatriya  and  a Vaigya,  a Vishnuite  and  a 
Jain.  He  was  of  Rajput  descent,  but  a Vania  merchant,  a 
Vishnuite  by  sect,  but  a Shravak  by  descent,  as  his  father 
had  been  converted  to  Jainism.  He  regarded  himself  as  a 
member  of  both  religious  bodies  and  of  both  castes.  Odd  as 
is  this  combitiation,  I am  not  sure  that  it  would  not  have 
been  possible,  even  in  the  ancient  world.  We  know  that 


ANCIENT  AND  MODERN  HINDU  GUILDS.  205 


there  were  many  who  were  practically  adherents  of  two  re- 
ligious sects  at  once,  and  we  need  go  no  further  than  the 
great  epic  to  find  distressed  Ivshatriyas,  or  members  of  the 
warrior-caste,  who  were  at  the  same  time  goldsmiths  by  pro- 
fession. The  latter  have  always  regarded,  themselves  as 
Vaigyas,  or  members  of  the  third  caste.  In  epic  phraseology, 
these  distressed  Rajputs  were  Ivshatriyas  by  their  social  order, 
varna,  but  goldsmiths  by  their  jati , the  word  for  caste  profes- 
sion.1 

It  is  probable  that  the  time  when  the  guilds  can  be  looked 
upon  as  economically  useful  has  passed  by.  But  if  we  review 
their  history  we  must,  I think,  see  in  them  an  important 
factor  in  the  development  of  mercantile  interests  at  a time 
when  such  a combination  as  they  represented  was  indispen- 
sable to  the  advancement  of  the  middle  classes  in  their  struggle 
for  recognition  at  the  hands  both  of  despotic  kings  and  of  an 
organized  priesthood  that  was  bent  on  suppressing  the  eleva- 
tion of  the  third  estate.  With  the  growth  of  the  guilds  the 
new  axiom  of  later  law  was  evolved,  whereby  the  king  was 
advised  not  to  oppress  the  guilds  and  not  to  tax  too  heavily. 
So  commerce  in  the  modern  sense  became  possible. 

In  conclusion,  I wish  to  record  my  best  thanks  to  Sheth 
Lalbhai  Dalpatbhai,  the  enlightened  Sheth  of  the  Shravaks  of 
Ahmedabad,  for  the  very  kind  efforts  made  by  him  in  my  be- 
half. It  is  owing  largely  to  him  that  I have  been  able  to 
gather  at  first  hand  the  material  which  has  made  this  study 
seem  worthy  of  publication.  As  the  record  from  living  wit- 
nesses of  the  workings  of  an  institution  more  than  two 
thousand  years  old,  it  may,  perhaps,  be  of  interest. 

1 Mbh.,  xii.  49,  84  : ete  ksatriyadayadah  . . . hemafcaradijatim  nityain  sama- 
yritah.  The  jati  here  is  the  modern  Nyat.  Nowadays,  as  stated  above,  p.  177, 
goldsmiths  claim  only  Yania  descent. 


LAND-TENURE  IN  INDIA. 


Sestce  the  days  of  Sir  Henry  Maine  the  glory  of  the  Hindu 
village-community  has  wellnigh  departed.  Till  a decade 
ago  it  was  still  taught  that  the  “ primitive  Aryan,”  an  individ- 
ual with  whom  we  are  less  familiar  now  than  formerly,  held 
only  a partner’s  right  of  possession  in  his  native  soil.  Com- 
munal ownership  of  land  was  at  that  time  believed  by  most 
scholars  to  have  been  an  Aryan  institution,  common  to  the 
primitive  German  and  Hindu  alike. 

It  was,  therefore,  with  the  feeling  of  being  very  heretical 
that  I ventured,  on  the  basis  of  a merely  literary  acquaintance 
with  the  social  conditions  of  ancient  India,  to  state  in  1888 
that  “practically  the  ownership  of  land  is  vested  in  each  he- 
reditary occupant ; his  right  is  secured  by  title ; ” 1 and  to  say 
that  there  was  need  of  a fresh  investigation  of  Indian  village- 
communities  and  Hindu  land-tenure.2  At  that  time  I did  not 
know  that  Mr.  Baden-Po well’s  wide  researches  into  present 
conditions  had  concentrated  themselves  upon  this  very  prob- 
lem and  were  leading  him  to  the  same  general  conclusion, 
which  he  afterwards  established  more  firmly  in  the  recasting 
of  his  material.  In  The  Indian  Village  Community  (1896) 
the  perfected  theories  of  the  author  of  Land  Systems  (1892) 
are  explained  at  length.  These  are  the  more  valuable  as  they 
were  propounded  solely  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  prac- 
tical observer  of  things  as  they  are.  That  from  these  two 
quite  different  points  of  view  has  been  drawn  substantially 
the  same  result  is  surely  an  argument  in  favor  of  its  probable 
correctness. 

In  his  last  work,  Village  Communities  in  India,  published 
in  1899,  just  before  his  death,  Mr.  Baden-Powell  gave  a popu- 

1 Journal  of  the  American  Oriental  Society  vol.  xiii.  p.  88. 

2 Ibid.,  p.  57. 


LAND-TENURE  IN  INDIA. 


207 


lar  exposition  of  his  theory  (which  may  now  he  called  the 
accepted  theory)  of  the  origin  of  the  different  systems  of 
land-tenure  in  India.  Some  points  were  here  slightly  modi- 
fied, as  compared  with  earlier  statements  respecting  historical 
conditions,  but  in  the  main  this  work  repeated  what  had  been 
said  in  the  previous  volumes. 

Sir  Henry  Maine  died  in  the  same  year  that  my  article  was 
published ; and,  strangely  enough,  no  follower  of  his  ever 
undertook  to  see  whether  his  views  were  corroborated  by  the 
monuments  of  antiquity.  The  outline  here  drawn  attempts 
to  give  the  growth  and  change  of  land-tenure  as  these  are 
shown  in  the  literature  of  Aryan  India,  from  the  earliest 
Vedic  period  to  about  500  A.  d.  It  may  be  regarded  as  a 
sort  of  historical  introduction  to  the  vast  array  of  facts  col- 
lected by  Mr.  Baden-Powell,  'whose  unrivalled  presentation 
of  modern  conditions  still  lacks  the  perspective  given  by  the 
literary  evidence  of  the  past.1  In  regard  to  some  points  I 
shall  be  obliged  to  differ  from  the  views  expressed  in  Mr. 
Baden-Powell’s  monographs,  but  these  do  not  affect  the  gen- 
eral propositions  he  upholds.  On  the  contrary,  to  my  think- 
ing, the  chief  contention,  that  the  early  Vedic  Aryans  were 
not  grouped  in  village  communities  (using  this  wrord  in  its 
strict  sense),  is  irrefragable. 

I would  say  one  word  more  before  beginning  this  sketch. 
Writers  on  economic  conditions  in  India  are  still  prone  to  cite 
from  the  “ early  law  ” of  the  Hindus ; and  unfortunately,  to 
many  who  know  other  things  well  but  Sanskrit  only  by  repu- 
tation, “ early  law  ” is  synonymous  with  the  law-book  of 
Manu.  Now,  Manu  may  be  cited  -with  discretion,  but  not  at 
haphazard  as  an  authority  on  early  law  ; for  he  stands  to  early 
law  much  in  the  relative  position  of  Justinian,  where  the  old 
may  be  found,  but  where  not  all  that  is  found  is  old.  Before 
Manu  there  are  a number  of  earlier  law-writers  known  as 
authors  of  law-manuals,  Sutras  ( siitras , threads  of  discourse, 

1 For  the  legal  data  may  be  consulted  Professor  Jolly's  excellent  little 
book  Rechtund  Sitte,  the  compass  of  which,  however,  prevents  detailed  analy- 
sis of  theories  of  land-tenure. 


208 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


concise  treatises).  Behind  these,  again,  lie  all  the  (informal) 
legal  provisions  of  the  Brahmana  age,  and  back  even  of  these, 
the  Yedic  hymns.  It  will  readily  be  seen,  therefore,  that  Manu 
is  not  synonymous  -with  primitive  or  even  very  early  Aryan. 
What  is  found  in  Manu  may  be  as  old  as  the  Vedas  or  older, 
but  on  the  other  hand  it  may  be  as  late  as  200  B.  c. 

No  very  definite  statements  in  regard  to  land-tenure  can  be 
gathered  from  the  earliest  literature.  The  Vedic  hymns,  the 
oldest  literary  monument,  show  that  different  tribes  at  different 
periods  are  involved  in  any  data  that  may  be  collected.  At  one 
time  a poet  speaks  of  his  people  as  advancing  “ from  a far  land,” 
searching  for  “ pasturage  and  water ; ” at  another,  a singer  is 
interested  mainly  in  agriculture,  and  prays  for  rain  and  a good 
harvest.  The  people  were  in  part  nomadic  : all  together  they 
sought  fresh  lands ; “ give  us  wide  pastures  ” was  their  cry. 
But  only  an  occasional  prayer  for  meadow-land  to  be  bestowed 
on  one  worshipper  would  lead  us  to  lay  stress  on  this  poetic 
phraseology.  The  contrast  is  there,  — on  the  one  hand,  be- 
tween the  sole  petitioner  and  the  cry  of  land  for  all ; on  the 
other,  between  the  grazing  and  agricultural  population,  — but 
only  the  latter  antithesis  is  pronounced.  Taken  as  a whole, 
the  stage  represented  is  that  of  a people  devoted  to  cattle 
rather  than  to  the  plough,  and  before  the  time  when  agricul- 
tural life  prevailed  there  was  probably  little  question  as  to 
land-ownership.  This  stage  was  reached,  however,  in  the  Rig 
Veda,  though  in  the  whole  of  this  work  there  are  less  than  a 
dozen  references  to  ploughing,  while  those  to  grazing  are  in- 
numerable. Landed  property  is  gained  by  conquest,  and  the 
“ winning  of  fields  ” or  “ conquest  of  fields  ”is  recognized  as  the 
usual  aim  of  battle  — as  much  so  as  “ the  conquest  of  cattle.” 
The  booty  of  such  conquests,  as  is  expressly  hinted,  was  dis- 
tributed by  shares.  At  a coronation  the  prayer  is  : “ Grant 
him,  the  king,  a share  in  village,  horses,  and  cattle.”  But 
the  king  distributes,  as  is  said  in  another  hymn:  “From  the 
height  of  sovereignty  do  thou,  terrible  one,  give  us  a share 
in  goods.”  Private  ownership  in  land  is  plainly  expressed, 
not  so  much  by  the  image  of  the  gods  measuring  time  with 


LAND-TENURE  IN  INDIA. 


209 


[their]  staff  “like  a field”  (which  Mr.  Baden-Powell  trans- 
lated incorrectly,  through  the  medium  of  a German  version, 
as  “ a man  measures  a field  with  a staff  of  reed  ”),  as  by  other 
passages  where  ownership  is  really  implied.  Thus,  a young 
woman  prays  that  something  may  grow  on  her  father’s  head 
and  on  [his]  plough-land ; and  a gambler  cries  that  a god  has 
warned  him  to  go  and  plough  the  plough-land  for  a living 
instead  of  playing  with  dice,  which  leads  only  to  regret  as  he 
looks  on  the  happy  homes  of  others.  The  implication  seems 
to  be,  in  the  very  few  pertinent  passages,  that  the  plougher 
owns  his  field  as  he  does  his  plough;  but  there  is  really 
nothing  in  these  hymns,  which  are  mainly  part  of  a divine 
service,  to  establish  this  with  certainty. 

The  “heads  of  families,”  casually  mentioned  as  grouped 
around  the  “active  lord  of  the  host,”  may  possibly  imply  joint 
families ; but  the  evidence  for  this  is  also  very  vague.  On 
the  other  hand,  there  is  direct  evidence,  as  I shall  show  below, 
that  a joint  family  in  the  legal  sense  was  not  recognized ; 
but  that  the  indications  of  separate  ownership  of  fields  in  the 
Rig  Veda  are  substantiated  by  a passage  in  the  Atharva  Veda, 
where  a man  prays  the  god  to  bless  “ his  men,  his  cattle,  his 
horses,  and  his  field.”  Separate  houses  are  of  course  to  be 
assumed,  but  they  are  also  implicitly  established.  The  kings 
give  to  their  priests  great  gifts  of  thousands  of  cattle,  not  as 
part  of  a common  possession,  but  as  their  individual  property 
to  be  driven  off  to  their  own  home.  But  the  great  owner 
of  property,  the  “wealth’s  wealth-lord  and  people’s  people- 
lord,”  as  the  Atharva  Veda  calls  him,  is  the  king.  This 
wealth  he  wins  “ from  foe  and  friend  ; ” but  there  is  nothing 
at  this  period  to  indicate  indubitably  in  whom  is  vested  the 
ultimate  ownership  of  land.  The  people  are  taxed,  — that  is, 
they  give  requisite  offerings,  — but  long  before  the  close  of 
the  Vedic  period  the  tax  is  obligatory. 

The  domestic  priest  of  the  king  was  the  first,  as  far  as  the 
records  show,  to  be  the  recipient  of  a gift  of  land  from  the 
king.  In  one  of  the  earliest  Brahmanas,  the  first  prose 
literature,  the  king  is  directed  to  give  this  priest  “ a field ; ” 

14 


210 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


but  we  shall  look  in  vain  through  the  still  earlier  literature 
of  the  hymns  for  any  such  donation.  In  the  Vedic  hymns, 
cattle,  horses,  slaves,  clothes,  and  jewels  are  given  in  pro- 
fusion, but  nowhere  is  there  any  mention  of  a gift  of  land. 
When  thus  given,  however,  in  the  second  period,  the  land 
may  not  be  alienated.  Even  if  the  king  at  another  time 
should  give  all  his  land  to  another  priest,  that  piece  which 
he  has  formerly  given  to  the  first  priest  is  not  included 
in  the  later  donation.  The  prototype  of  those  extraordinary 
gifts  (so  frequently  mentioned  in  later  literature),  whereby 
a king  gives  all  his  land  to  a priest,  is  found  in  the  Brah- 
manas.  As  Mr.  Baden-Powell  seems  to  have  thought  that 
all  such  stories  are  late,  — and,  in  fact,  he  seems  to  have 
known  only  of  the  latest,  — it  is  well  to  remember  that, 
so  far  as  such  stories  affect  the  question  of  land-tenure, 
they  are  really  a product,  not  of  a late  age,  but  of  the 
Vedic  period  in  its  second  stage.  Such  gifts  in  that 
age  are,  however,  rare  as  compared  with  the  succeeding 
period.  Gifts  of  whole  villages  are  recorded  in  the  earliest 
Upanishad  and  legal  literature. 

A general  view  of  the  intermediate  age,  represented  by 
the  later  Vedas  and  the  Brahmanas,  shows  that,  when  a 
king  with  the  help  of  an  ally  conquers  a third  king,  he 
“ goes  shares  ” in  the  booty  with  his  ally ; that  the  country 
is  governed  by  the  sovereign  through  local  officers  ; that 
the  gramani  or  “leader  of  a host”  of  the  earlier  period 
has  now  become  a “village  head-man;”  and  that  the  king 
bestows  land  for  a place  of  sacrifice  only  when  he  has  been 
“begged”  for  it  by  the  priests. 

A question  arises  at  this  point;  and  it  is  perhaps  the 
one  that  Mr.  Baden-Powell,  from  an  historical  point  of  view, 
answered  most  unsatisfactorily,  when  he  claimed  that  the 
Aryan  Vaigya  was  an  agriculturist  only  incidentally  and 
chiefly  by  proxy,  being  really  a trader.  He  based  this  view 
on  the  fact  that  in  Manu’s  (late)  law-book  the  Vaigya  seems 
to  be  principally  occupied  with  trade.  In  the  course  of 
his  argument  he  was  here  led  to  make  one  or  two  statements 


LAND-TENURE  IN  INDIA. 


211 


of  fact,  the  truth  of  which  cannot  be  determined  upon  the 
slender  evidence  adduced,  and  which  a closer  acquaintance 
with  Sanskrit  literature  would  probably  have  modified. 

The  subject  is  really  of  prime  importance,  owing  to  the  use 
to  which  Mr.  Baden-Powell  put  his  results.  He  drew  from 
it  the  conclusion  “that  the  upper  classes  of  Aryan  origin 
had  little  feeling  for  agriculture,  and  that  India  does  not 
owe  to  them  either  the  introduction  of  settled  cultivation 
or  (directly)  any  particular  policy  or  principle  of  land  owner- 
ship.”1 Mr.  Baden-Powell  was  of  the  opinion  that  agri- 
culture was  performed  only  by  the  humblest  classes  of 
Aryans,  scarcely  differentiated  from  the  original  inhabitants, 
and  was  much  surprised  that  he  could  not  find,  in  accordance 
with  his  theory,  any  mention  of  the  Qudra  (slave,  Qudra) 
as  an  agriculturist. 

This  is  rather  a startling  statement,  in  view  of  the  fact 
that,  as  I have  already  mentioned,  agricultural  labor  is 
alluded  to  in  the  very  earliest  Aryan  literature.  In  the 
Brahmana  literature  also,  although  one  does  not  expect 
to  find  many  allusions  to  agriculture  in  books  devoted  to 
the  exposition  of  a sacrificial  liturgy,  ploughing  is  very 
often  mentioned  and  the  processes  of  the  year’s  work  in 
the  plough-land  are  all  described.  Then  turning  to  the 
Sutras,  or  earliest  manuals  of  law,  some  of  them  much 
older  than  Manu,  we  find,  not  only  constant  allusion  to 
agriculture,  but  plain  evidence  of  the  fact  that  Vai§yas  were 
particularly  agriculturists,  and  that  members  of  the  warrior 
caste  and  of  the  priest  caste  were  very  apt  to  adopt  the 
same  occupation.  It  was  therefore  a grave  slip  to  say,  as 
did  Mr.  Baden-Powell : “ Whatever  be  the  true  date  of 
the  Laws  of  Manu , we  have  no  earlier  literary  mention  of 
agriculture,  after  the  Yedic  Hymns,”2  and  I am  glad  to 
see  that  in  his  latest  volume  he  accepted  the  corrections 
•which  I made  as  regards  this  point,3  and  so  modified  it 

1 The  Indian  Village  Community,  p.  192.  2 Ibid.,  p.  190. 

8 In  an  article  in  the  Political  Science  Quarterly,  December,  1898.  The 
present  essay  has,  of  course,  been  modified  accordingly. 


212 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


as  to  extract  from  it  all  its  force.  “ I meant  only  ” (he  says) 
“ that  non-Aryan  races  had  established  villages  for  agricul- 
tural life  before  the  Aryans,  and  that  the  latter  furnished  the 
element  of  over-lordship  and  manorial  growth”  (Ind.  Vill. 
Comm.  p.  54).  In  this  new  statement  Mr.  Baden-Powell  is 
doubtless  right,  as  he  adds  unequivocally,  “ The  lower  ranks 
of  Aryans  practised  agriculture.”  But,  as  a matter  of  fact, 
we  can  trace  almost  step  by  step  through  the  Sutras  the 
gradual  change  from  cowboy  and  agriculturist  to  trader 
in  the  case  of  the  Vaigya.  Long  before  Manu’s  law-book 
was  known,  had  arisen  the  famous  ahinsa  doctrine  of  non- 
injury to  living  creatures;  and  the  objection  to  agriculture 
on  the  part  of  the  priest  is  based  expressly  on  this  ground 
in  the  law-books.  But,  as  to-day  and  in  the  last  century 
in  Rajputana,  so  in  ancient  times,  recourse  to  agriculture 
was  the  first  thought  on  the  part  of  the  upper  castes,  and 
agriculture  was  the  usual  occupation  of  the  third  estate. 
It  is  true  that  the  upper  castes  had  no  “feeling”  for  agri- 
culture, but  noblemen  and  priests,  as  a general  thing,  have 
feeling  neither  for  agriculture  nor  for  trade.  In  India  the 
Vaigya  was  first  a tender  of  cattle ; then  from  the  Vedic 
period  onwards  an  agriculturist  or  cattle-man ; and,  lastly, 
by  preference  a trader.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  traders 
existed  in  the  Vedic  age,  so  that  the  very  gradual  change 
of  occupation  of  the  caste  as  a whole  is  the  more  remark- 
able if  Mr.  Baden-Powell’s  view  was  correct.  There  is, 
again,  another  factor  ignored  in  Mr.  Baden-Powell’s  work. 
“Vaigya”  was  the  old  inherited  caste  (or,  better  class)  name 
and  could  not  be  dispensed  with.  It  had  to  cover  various 
new  livelihoods  in  the  law-books,  as  in  the  older  literature 
it  covered  all  occupations  not  knightly,  priestly,  or  menial. 
But  in  the  epic,  trader  and  Vaigya  are  sundered  outright, 
grouped  as  two  classes;  and  here  Vaigya,  in  sharp  distinc- 
tion from  trader,  means  agriculturist.  The  epic,  moreover,  in 
numerous  passages  intimates  that,  when  a Vaigya  is  spoken 
of,  it  is  par  excellence  an  agriculturist  who  is  intended. 
Thus,  in  the  words  of  the  Goddess  of  Bliss : “ I dwell  in 


LAND-TENURE  IN  INDIA. 


213 


the  home  of  the  Vaigya”  (that  is)  “the  one  devoted  to 
agriculture  ” ; and  again  : “ This  is  the  expiation  of  a Vai§ya, 
to  give  part  of  his  crops  to  a priest.”  The  same  work 
contains  a list  of  priests  who  lead  irregular  lives:  “Some 
[priests]  practise  agriculture  and  tend  cattle ; some  rely  on 
begging,”  etc.  Sometimes  the  word  connotes  simply  a 
cowherd ; sometimes  it  includes  the  trader ; but  it  never 
indicates  the  trader  alone.  But  not  to  quote  more,  though 
it  would  be  easy,  I will  conclude  this  paragraph  by  saying 
that  the  town  Vaigyas  were  usually  guild-men,  and  became 
naturally  much  more  important  economically  than  their 
stupider  brothers  who  stayed  on  the  farm.1  To  draw  from 
such  evidence  the  sweeping  conclusion  that  India  owes  agri- 
culture to  the  Dravidians  would  be  a surprising  bit  of  logic. 
There  is  in  reality  no  evidence  whatever  to  show  that  the 
Aryans  learned  agriculture  from  the  Dravidians.  All  that 
we  can  say  is  that  there  is  no  proof  that  the  Vaiijyas  were 
a large  special  caste  who  introduced  agriculture  into  India. 
As  Mr.  Baden-Powell  in  this  respect  also  modified  his 
original  statements  to  this  form  ( loc . cit.  supra , p.  53),  it 
is  perhaps  unnecessary  to  argue  this  point  further. 

The  appointment  of  officers  over  various  parts  of  the  king- 
dom as  subalterns  very  likely  dates  back  to  the  Vedie  period ; 
and  as  Mr.  Baden-Powell  says  of  the  officers  in  Manu’s  law- 
book : “ These  were  in  all  probability  ‘ over-lords  ’ simply, 
who  drew  revenues  from  the  landed  proprietors.”  In  one  of 
the  Upanishads  it  is  said  in  a simile : [The  vital  breath  com- 
mands the  other  breaths]  “ just  as  a samraj  or  universal  king 
commissions  his  officers,  saying : Be  thou  over  these  villages 
or  those  villages.”  But  in  many  cases  these  villages  do  not 
seem  to  have  had  much  tenacity  as  regards  land.  When,  as 
is  related  in  a Buddhist  text,  one  village  is  annoyed  by  da- 
coits,  it  is  regarded  as  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world 
that  the  village  should  be  moved,  — that  it  should  even  divide 

1 But  even  trading  (town)  Vaifyas  kept  up  agricultural  pursuits,  as  is 
shown  in  many  Buddhistic  stories.  See  the  preceding  article  on  Ancient 
and  Modern  Hindu  Guilds. 


214 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


into  two  bodies,  one  part  going  to  one  place  and  the  other  to 
another. 

Now  this  instability  of  the  village  is  characteristic  of  the 
eastern  part  of  India.  From  the  east  comes  the  account  of 
the  division  first  mentioned ; and  similarly  it  is  in  the  later 
epic,  which  is  probably  an  eastern  addition  to  the  western  poem, 
that  the  king  is  warned  continually  to  be  kind  to  the  agricul- 
turists, as  they  are  liable,  if  displeased,  to  leave  their  villages 
at  any  time  and  to  seek  homes  elsewhere,  even  in  the  realm 
of  his  enemy.  This,  too,  is  corroborated  by  the  proverb-wis- 
dom of  the  period  : “ A wife  and  a home,  — these  are  second- 
ary matters  ; one  can  find  them  everywhere.” 

The  gift  of  whole  villages  on  the  part  of  a king  is  a note- 
worthy feature  of  Buddhist  literature  ( c . 300  B.c.),  as  it  is  of 
the  epic.  It  is  foreshadowed,  as  we  have  seen,  in  the  tales  of 
the  Brahmanas,  and  there  is  a case  or  two  mentioned  in  the 
early  Upanishads.  By  what  tenure  these  lands  were  held  is 
perhaps  not  quite  so  certain  as  Mr.  Baden-Powell  thinks. 
But  before  describing  the  terms  of  these  grants  I must  touch 
on  another  topic. 

The  joint-family  is  the  ideal  of  the  later  age,  but  it  is  not 
an  ideal  which  is  favored  by  the  jurists.  In  the  later  law  it 
is  held  to  be  more  meritorious  not  to  keep  the  family  united, 
the  principle  being  that  of  the  so-called  “increase  of  reli- 
gion.” That  is  to  say : the  more  householders,  the  more  sac- 
rifices ; the  more  sacrifices,  the  more  spiritual  merit  (and  the 
more  gifts  to  priests).  But  the  joint-family  stands  in  a poetic 
ideal  light  in  the  eyes  of  the  epic  poets.  This  tends  to 
show  on  the  one  hand  that  it  was  old,  and  on  the  other 
that  it  was  no  longer  customary.  An  example  or  two  will 
illustrate  this.  An  elder  brother,  who  has  all  to  gain  and 
nothing  to  lose  by  keeping  up  the  joint-family,  reproves  his 
younger  brother,  who  demands  partition  of  the  family  estate  : 
“ Many  through  folly  desire  partition,  but  such  divided  heirs 
are  weakened  before  their  foes.”  Again,  in  plaintive  retro- 
spect of  the  good  old  days  it  is  said : “In  that  age  sons 
did  not  divide  with  their  father.”  The  strange  thing  about 


LAND-TENURE  IN  INDIA. 


215 


this  is  that,  according  to  all  the  legends  and  traditions  of 
antiquity,  the  joint-family  is  unknown : the  divided  family 
is  the  rule.  There  is,  to  my  knowledge,  not  a single  in- 
stance in  the  mythical  accounts  of  the  past,  where  a father  is 
represented  as  leaving  his  property  to  the  family  in  general  or 
as  possessing  it  in  common  with  them.  The  historical  or 
legendary  evidence,  on  the  contrary,  all  points  the  other  way. 

If,  for  instance,  we  turn  back  to  the  oldest  period  of  which 
we  have  any  knowledge,  we  find  in  the  Rig  Veda  a distinct 
allusion  to  the  fact  that,  when  the  father  grew  old  and  feeble, 
he  was  ousted  from  his  property  and  his  sons  divided  it  among 
themselves.  In  the  Brahmanas,  again,  there  are  two  mythical 
accounts  of  Father  Manu  (not  as  the  lawgiver  here,  but  as  the 
Adam  of  the  race)  and  of  the  division  of  his  inheritance. 
These  differ  only  in  details.  One  of  them,  either  really  the 
older  or  at  least  contained  in  an  older  work,  describes  the 
fact  thus  : “ Manu  divided  his  property  for  his  sons  ; one  of 
them,  living  elsewhere  as  a student,  he  excluded  from  a 
share.”  The  other  account  says : “ The  brothers  excluded 
from  a share  one  of  Manu’s  sons.”  In  both  accounts  the  prop- 
erty is  divided  during  the  father’s  life.  The  position  of  the 
one  son  who  assumes  his  father's  place  is  described  in  the 
later  literature  of  the  Upanishads,  where  it  is  said  that  when 
a father,  thinking  he  is  about  to  die,  bestows  everything  on 
his  son  and  that  son  accepts  it,  then  the  father,  if  he  recovers, 
must  live  under  the  son’s  authority  or  “ wander  about,  a 
beggar.”  But  this  is  a later  case  of  only  one  son,  and  affects 
solely  the  status  of  the  father  when  he  has  disposed  of  his 
authority ; whereas  the  earlier  tale  recognizes  each  son  as 
special  owner  of  a special  share.  So,  too,  in  the  Yajur  Veda 
is  found  another  indication  to  the  same  effect,  when  it  is  said : 
“ For  this  reason  they  fit  out  the  eldest  son  with  [an  extra 
share  of]  property,”  as  the  sentence  must  be  interpreted  ac- 
cording to  the  context  and  according  to  the  oldest  commenta- 
tor, who  is  himself  a jurist. 1 

1 Apastamba’s  Law-Book,  ii.  6,  14,  12.  The  accounts  of  partition  are  from 
the  Black  Yajur  Veda  and  Aitareya  Brahmana,  references  in  Jolly,  loc.  cit. 


216 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


Again,  in  mythology  we  find  constant  references  in  the 
Brahmana  period  to  the  “ division  of  inheritance  ” of  the 
Father-god,  whose  children,  the  gods  and  the  devils,  “both 
being  children  of  the  Father-god,”  fight  for  their  respective 
shares  and  “ enter  into  their  inheritance  ” by  dividing  it.  In 
terms  of  real  life  this  would  show  that  the  divided  family  was 
the  ordinary  family  through  the  Brahmana  period.  So  when 
a man  has  no  son,  he  divides  his  property  between  his  two 
wives,  according  to  another  well-known  story  of  the  same 
period. 

But  the  marriage  hymn  of  the  Rig  Veda  indicates  that  the 
man  takes  his  bride  home  and  expects  her  to  be  mistress  of 
the  household,  which  expressly  includes  her  father-in-law  and 
brothers-in-law.  Now  this  hymn  represents, in  all  probability, 
a period  much  older  than  the  mass  of  Vedic  hymns;  and  it 
would  really  be  consonant  with  all  the  facts  in  the  case,  if  we 
saw  in  this  unique  passage  (for  “ hj'mns  of  concord  ” do  not 
prove  anything)  a reference  to  the  joint-family,  though  no 
longer  in  the  “ patriarchal  ” stage.  In  what  way,  however, 
can  this  be  harmonized  with  the  apparently  contradictory  evi- 
dence already  adduced?  Clearly  by  the  otherwise  not  im- 
probable assumption  that  the  joint-family  was  already  on  the 
wane  in  the  earliest  (literary)  period.  It  is  for  this  reason,  as 
it  seems  to  me,  that  the  two  forms  go  theoretically  hand  in 
hand  at  a much  later  date,  as  in  the  law-book  of  Manu  and 
the  epic.  In  the  latter,  for  instance,  the  same  paragraph 
gives  directions  for  maintaining  a family  in  either  way  after 
the  father’s  death.  Here  the  joint-family  is  formally  disap- 
proved of,  while  theoretically  it  is  allowed  ; but  the  only  case 
where  a really  joint-family  is  represented  is  that  of  the  chief 
epic  heroes.  These,  however,  are  ideal  types ; and  even  in 
their  case  the  separate  ownership  of  a younger  brother  is  dis- 
tinctly recognized.  Thus,  in  order  to  give  away  property 
belonging  to  his  junior,  the  head  of  the  family  asks  the  lat- 
ter’s permission  ; and  when  this  is  refused,  the  younger  retains 
his  possessions  undisturbed. 

When  it  is  remembered,  however,  that  the  Aryans  of  the 


LAND-TENURE  IN  INDIA. 


217 


Punjab  are  looked  upon  by  the  writers  of  this  epic  as  outside 
the  Brahmanic  pale,  and  that  many  customs  lingered  among 
the  former  which  the  more  advanced  Aryans  of  the  “ middle 
district”  (around  the  present  Delhi)  had  long  since  re- 
nounced, it  is  clear  that  another  element  than  that  of  time 
may  be  involved.  It  is  a mistake  to  think  that  the  Punjab 
was  as  un- Aryan  two  or  three  thousand  years  ago  as  it  is  to- 
day. In  the  epic,  the  inhabitants  of  what  is  now  the  Delhi 
district  revile  in  no  measured  terms  the  western  Punjab  allies 
they  unwillingly  associate  with,  but  it  is  not  even  suggested 
that  they  are  not  Aryans  : it  is  merely  said  that  their  customs 
are  strange,  remote,  not  in  keeping  with  the  more  eastern 
usage  of  the  “ middle  land.”  It  is  therefore  possible  that  the 
older  joint-family  was  retained  among  those  Aryans  who, 
instead  of  striking  southeast  with  the  later  Vedic  poets,  lin- 
gered behind  in  the  Punjab. 

But  the  kind  of  property  “ divided  ” in  the  ancient  tales  I 
have  referred  to  is  never  land  but  always  flocks.  Even  the 
early  law-books  are  very  reticent  in  regard  to  the  kind  of 
property  to  be  divided.  When  partition  is  expressly  spoken 
of,  however,  it  is  in  terms  of  cattle.  “ Impartible  property  ” 
is  described  at  length,  the  list  increasing  with  the  lateness  of 
the  author.  Thus  Manu’s  list  includes  “a  dress,  a vehicle, 
ornaments,  prepared  food,  water  [that  is,  a well],  females 
[slaves],  religious  property,  and  a path  [or  pasture],”  while 
Gautama,  who  states  that  land  is  not  lost  by  adverse  posses- 
sion, mentions  only  water,  religious  property,  prepared  food 
and  females  [slaves].  U§anas  says  that  land  is  impartible, 
and  this  may  be  implied  by  Gautama,  but  the  late  jurists  of 
the  fourth  and  fifth  centuries  of  our  era  specify  houses  and 
lands  as  partible.  Fields  owned  by  individuals  are  men- 
tioned, not  only  in  the  case  of  a man  who  clears  a piece  of 
jungle  and  is  therefore  admitted  to  be  the  possessor,  but  also 
in  the  laws  concerning  the  establishment  of  disputed  bounda- 
ries. It  is  therefore  the  more  remarkable  that  in  the  laws  of 
inheritance  real  estate  is  so  often  ignored.  The  later  jurists 
are,  in  fact,  as  careful  to  give  minute  rules  of  inheritance  in 


218 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


regard  to  house  and  land  as  are  the  early  jurists  to  avoid 
express  mention  of  such  forms  of  inheritance.  Professor 
Jolly  finds  in  the  implication  of  impartible  real  estate  (as 
opposed  to  express  rules  for  partible  property)  Spuren  einer 
ehemaligen  Feldgemeinschaft  ganzer  Dorfer,  and  is  perhaps 
inclined  to  retain  the  village  community,  though  he  is  not 
explicit  on  this  point  (§§  23,  27,  of  Recht  und  Sitte),  perhaps 
owing  to  lack  of  space  to  discuss  the  subject.  This  would  at 
any  rate  be  the  natural  inference  if  one  believed  that  village 
ownership  necessarily  implied  a village  community.  But, 
as  will  be  seen,  there  is  no  necessity  for  accepting  this 
conclusion. 

On  the  other  hand,  I think  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the 
general  Hindu  theory  of  impartible  real  estate  is  a distinct 
blow  to  the  sweeping  generalization  made  by  Mr.  Baden- 
Powell  when  he  stated  that  the  early  Aryans  in  India  recog- 
nized only  private  ownership  in  land.  If  the  theory  he 
advanced  depended  on  the  truth  of  this  generalization,  it 
would  have  to  be  abandoned  as  no  less  unsatisfactory  than 
that  of  Sir  Henry  Maine.  But  the  theory  does  not  depend 
(as  Mr.  Baden-Powell  seemed  to  think)  on  any  such  general- 
ization. It  is,  if  I may  say  so,  a pity  that  two  facts  were  never 
recognized  by  that  practical  expositor  : first,  that  there  was  a 
middle  way,  and,  second,  that  in  Hindu  legal  literature  the 
same  work  will  not  only  contain  contradictory  statements, 
but  also  imply  different  economic  conditions.  A verj’-  good 
(and  for  my  present  purpose  important)  illustration  of  this 
may  be  found  in  what  Manu  has  said  about  boundary  laws 
and  what  Mr.  Baden-Powell  has  said  about  Manu. 

To  take  the  latter  case  first,  as  the  remarks  on  Manu  are 
very  short,  Mr.  Baden-Powell  declared,  with  a simplicity 
almost  too  forced,  that  “ rules  for  settling  boundaries  are 
given ; ” and  then  used  this  presentation  of  the  facts  as  an 
argument  against  the  view  that  village  holdings  are  known 
to  Manu,  and  as  a proof  of  exclusively  “ private  ownership.’’ 1 

1 The  Indian  "Village  Community,  p.  207.  In  the  same  author’s  Land 
Systems  (vol.  i.  p.  227),  the  wording  is  “ boundary  of  estates  or  holdings.” 


LAND-TENURE  IN  INDIA. 


219 


It  is  doubtless  true  that  Manu  recognizes  boundaries  of  pri- 
vate estates ; but  it  is  quite  as  important  to  notice  that  he 
not  only  recognizes  boundaries  of  villages  also,  but  devotes 
to  the  latter  his  chief  care.  In  fact,  the  whole  subject  of 
boundaries  in  his  law-book  opens  with  elaborate  rules  for  the 
adjustment  of  boundaries  between  “ disputing  villages ; ” and 
it  is  only  as  an  after-thought  or  appendix  that  he  adds  to  these 
rules  the  subsidiary  law  in  regard  to  “ boundary  lines  of  a 
field,  spring,  reservoir,  garden,  or  house.”  Previous  to  the 
curt  statement  that  in  such  cases  the  boundary  shall  be  estab- 
lished “ by  an  appeal  to  the  neighbors,”  comes  a long  descrip- 
tion of  the  formalities  to  be  observed  “ when  a dispute  has 
arisen  between  two  villages.”  This  description  extends  over 
seventeen  paragraphs  and  closes  with  the  statement  that  “ as 
the  witnesses  declare,  so  shall  the  boundary  be  between  the 
two  villages.”  According  to  the  commentator’s  reasonable 
explanation,  there  are  two  advocates  or  special  pleaders,  each 
representing  one  of  the  two  villages,  but  the  whole  village 
takes  part  in  the  proceedings.  The  rule  of  Vasishtha,  who 
quotes  Manu  and  is  not  a very  early  writer,1  speaks  only  of 
the  second  kind  of  boundary.  Still  more  noteworthy  is  the 
absolute  inversion  of  the  order  in  the  still  later  law-book  of 
Yajnavalkya.  Here  the  boundary  rule  is  applied  first  to 
private  fields  and  then  to  “ gardens,  villages,  and  reservoirs.” 
Virtually,  the  elder  lawgiver  says : “ This  is  the  law  in  re- 
gard to  the  disputed  boundaries  of  villages,”  and  then  adds, 
“ This  law  applies  also  to  fields.”  The  later  jurist  says : 
“ This  is  the  law  in  regard  to  fields,”  and  then  adds,  “ The 
law  applies  also  to  villages,”  — rather  a significant  alteration. 

It  is  of  course  true  that  this  passage  does  not  prove  com- 
munal ownership  in  either  village ; but  the  inference  from 
the  prior  description  would  not  seem  to  be  that  the  ownership 

1 The  law-book  of  Vasishtha  is  a mixture  of  prose  and  verse,  of  old  and 
new.  Like  the  later  writers,  he  prescribes,  for  instance,  that  a proof  of  owner- 
ship is  a lekhya  or  “ writing,”  and  enjoins  the  use  of  documents  in  case  of  dis- 
puted ownership  (xvi.  10,  14).  The  earliest  Sutra  lawgiver,  Gautama,  has  no 
rule  at  all  in  regard  to  boundaries,  though  he  recognizes  enclosed  fields  and 
private  ownership  in  land. 


220 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


spoken  of  is  one  of  private  fields  ; and  it  was  certainly  going 
a little  too  far  for  Mr.  Baden-Powell  to  cite  the  passage  as 
evidence  of  exclusively  private  property.  The  inference  to 
be  drawn  is,  I think,  neither  that  of  Maine  nor  of  Baden- 
Powell.  This  village  is  not  a “ village  community,”  but  it  is 
also  not  a Raiyat  village.  It  is  a joint-village.  The  garlanded 
witnesses,  marking  out  the  lines  in  the  presence  of  “ all  the 
inhabitants,”  point  to  the  recognition  of  proprietary  rights  in 
those  inhabitants  as  a body.  Further,  in  the  early  law,  we 
hear  of  the  much-despised  “ priest  of  a whole  village,”  who, 
like  the  “ priest  of  a corporation,”  apparently  officiates  for  a 
corporate  body.  Now  such  village  corporations  are  expressly 
recognized  in  the  later  law-books,  and  Professor  Jolly,  Recht 
und  Sitte,  p.  94,  cites  a text,  found  in  commentaries  but  of 
doubtful  authorship,  which  says  that  a field  cannot  be  sold 
without  the  consent  of  the  village. 

The  habitat  of  the  joint-family  village  seems  to  be  in  the 
agricultural  districts  of  the  Punjab.  It  is  therefore  interest- 
ing to  notice  that  the  people  who  are  spoken  of  in  the  early 
Brahmana  period  as  living  “ without  kings  ” are  inhabitants 
of  the  northwestern  Punjab.  But  the  epic,  besides  these, 
speaks  of  a people  whose  only  name  is  “ villagers  ” or  “ vil- 
lage-head-man people.”  They  are  great  warriors  and  “ live  on 
the  banks  of  the  Indus.”  1 To  my  thinking,  Manu,  whose 
law-book  originated  in  what  is  now  the  southeastern  Punjab, 
stands  between  two  geographical  and  historical  extremes  ; and 
in  his  work,  as  in  the  early  epic,  which  came  from  the  same 
district,  there  are  traces  of  two  forms  of  holdings  and  two 
forms  of  inheritance  and  family. 2 

It  is  a curious  fact  that  the  British  have  not  yet  been 
able  to  decide  whether  they  are  drawing  a tax  or  a rent  from 
the  Hindu  farmer.  Some,  like  Mr.  Chesney,  say  that  the 

1 People  living  “ without  kings  ” are  frequently  mentioned  in  the  epic,  and 
always  as  if  they  were  well  known  though  much  despised. 

2 I may  add  that  Mr.  Baden-Powell’s  notion  (in  support  of  his  theory)  that 
Manu’s  law-book  comes  from  Oudh  is  utterly  without  a basis  in  fact.  Manu 
praises  only  the  Delhi  district.  The  eastern  districts  he  knows  only  as  the 
home  of  impure  castes. 


LAND-TENURE  IN  INDIA. 


221 


land  has  always  belonged  to  the  crown,  and  the  farmer  pays 
rent  for  his  land.  Others,  like  Mr.  Baden-Powell  and  Lord 
Salisbury,  prefer  to  regard  the  revenue  as  a tax.  Mr.  Hynd- 
man  says  that  “ the  matter  is  too  clear  for  dispute,”  and  that 
the  land-revenue  is  a tax.  Both  sides  appeal  to  ancient 
authorities  and  ancient  ideas  of  the  Hindu  state ; while,  on 
the  other  hand,  M.  Senart  thinks  that  the  ancient  Hindus  had 
no  idea  of  a state  at  all.  Some  of  the  Greek  authorities 
speak  of  taxes  in  India,  and  others  speak  of  rent,  even  declar- 
ing that  the  whole  country  belonged  to  the  king,  and  that  no 
individual  owned  land  at  all.  The  Greeks,  however,  may  be 
ignored,  for  the  reason  that  in  many  of  the  economic  state- 
ments they  make  they  can  be  proved  to  be  utterly  untrust- 
worthy, and  therefore  in  others  are  as  likely  to  be  wrong  as 
right. 

Nor  do  I think  that  we  can  treat  the  words  of  the  Hindu 
law-makers  as  we  should  those  of  modern  economists  who 
make  a sharp  distinction  between  rent  and  tax.  In  fact, 
though  I do  not  know  that  the  idea  has  been  suggested  be- 
fore, or  that  it  would  receive  the  approbation  of  scholars 
generally,  I am  convinced  for  my  own  part  that  the  true  solu- 
tion is  to  be  found  in  the  explanation  that  the  revenue  in 
ancient  times  was  regarded  as  a tax,  but  that  in  regard  to 
ownership  the  old  Hindu  legislator  held  (without  raising  the 
question  which  is  now  put  first)  that  ownership  in  land  was 
double. 

Incomprehensible  as  is  this  attitude  at  first  sight,  it  is  not 
incompatible  with  a doctrine  both  sound  and  natural.  In  the 
first  place,  the  Hindu  without  doubt  owned  his  land.  To 
take  the  simplest  case,  he  owned  new  land  which  he  made 
(cleared  of  jungle),  “ as  a hunter  owns  the  deer  he  shoots,”  to 
employ  the  native  parallel.  On  this  land  he  paid  a sixth  of 
the  crop  as  tax  “ in  return  for  protection,”  as  is  stated  over 
and  over.  If  he  did  not  get  the  protection  the  tax  was  not 
due.  If  the  king  took  it  “ he  incurred  a sixth  of  the  farmer’s 
sins;”  that  is,  translated  out  of  the  eschatological  balance- 
sheet,  the  king  at  his  own  death  owed  the  farmer  the  tax 


222 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


unjustly  taken.  It  is  clear,  therefore,  that  the  farmer  or  joint- 
family,  as  the  case  might  be,  owned  the  land.  The  only  re- 
striction was  that  his  son  (“a  part  of  himself”)  divided  the 
ownership.  Hence  he  could  not  alienate  his  land,  but  it  was 
handed  down  from  father  to  son  or  descended  to  the  joint- 
family’s  heirs,  alienable  only  by  consent  of  the  joint-village 
if  the  case  was  one  of  joint-village  ownership. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  it  was  as  unquestioned  that  the  king 
was  the  master  of  all.  The  king  is  not  only  over-lord,  he  is 
owner,  and  one  of  his  old  titles  is,  “ The  one  owning  all  the 
land.”  On  this  point  I am  compelled  to  differ  from  Mr. 
Baden-Powell,  who  claimed  that  the  idea  of  land-ownership 
vested  in  the  crown  is  a late  growth.  The  king  in  the  earliest 
period  (in  the  recorded  ceremony  of  inauguration)  is  expressly 
said  to  be  the  devourer  of  his  people.  This  is  no  isolated 
phrase,  nor  are  the  people  other  than  his  own  Vaigyas.  The 
Aitareya  Brahmana  says  that  a priest’s  function  is  to  take 
gifts,  while  the  Vaigya’s  peculiar  function  is  to  be  devoured  by 
priest  and  nobleman.  The  only  difference  recognized  in  this 
early  age  between  slave  and  farmer  is  that  the  latter,  being 
Aryan,  may  not  be  killed  at  pleasure. 

Now  I submit,  in  the  first  place,  that  it  is  nonsense  to 
suppose  that  a peasant  proprietor,  openly  described  as  fit 
only  to  be  robbed  by  the  king,  could  have  had  any  secure 
hold  of  his  landed  property.  The  king’s  ownership  extended 
to  all  property  except  a priest’s,  which  is  especially  de- 
scribed as  the  only  land  in  his  realm  “ outside  the  king’s 
district,”  agd. 

But  we  find  the  same  view  also  in  the  legal  literature.  Mr. 
Baden-Powell  asserted,  indeed,  that  the  only  authority  for  the 
idea  that  the  state  was  considered  superior  owner  of  the  soil, 
is  a modern  digest  of  the  last  century. 

But  Brihaspati,  whose  code  was  written  500-600  a.d.,  says 
that  the  reason  why  the  king  becomes  heir  to  property  left 
without  another  heir  [male  issue,  wife,  or  brother]  is  that 
he  is  the  “ owner  of  all ; ” and  Narada,  who  wrote  his  code 
about  the  same  time  or  a little  earlier,  says  that  real  estate 


LAND-TENURE  IN  INDIA. 


223 


held  for  three  generations  cannot  be  estranged  except  by  the 
king’s  will.  Again,  Brihaspati,  who  lived  when  the  village 
owned  by  one  man  was  customary,  says  in  speaking  of  such  a 
village  : “ Suppose  land  is  taken  from  a village  belonging  to 
one  man  and  transferred  to  another  man  either  by  [the  action 
of]  a river  or  by  the  king  [to  which  man  does  it  belong  ?] 
It  belongs  to  him  who  gets  it  from  the  river  or  from  the 
king.”  The  only  reason  is  that  the  king  is  the  supreme 
owner  of  the  land. 

In  the  earlier  period  the  question  as  to  who  owns  the  land 
is  simply  not  discussed.  In  every  reference  to  the  subject  it 
is  said,  as  if  it  were  a matter  of  course,  that  (with  a constant 
exception  in  the  case  of  priestly  possessions)  the  king  is  the 
owner  of  everything.  He  is  not  only  the  over-lord,  but  he  is 
the  over-lord  as  owner.  Thus,  as  owner  simply,  he  gets  half 
of  all  treasure-trove ; and  that  this  is  the  true  explanation  is 
evident  from  the  fact  that,  when  the  king  gives  a village 
to  a priest,  he  gives  him  as  owner  the  right  to  all  the  treas- 
ure-trove, — that  is,  the  king’s  ownership  has  passed  to  the 
finder,  who  is  now  the  owner.  In  regard  to  the  interpreta- 
tion of  the  legal  passage  I do  not  stand  alone.  The  late 
Professor  Biihler,  of  Vienna,  one  of  the  foremost  scholars  in 
this  line,  declared  long  ago  that  he  regards  the  rule  just 
cited  “ as  a distinct  recognition  of  the  principle  that  the 
ownership  of  all  land  is  vested  in  the  king.”  The  epic  also 
has  many  passages  showing  that,  while  the  priest  claimed  a 
divine  right  to  possess  everything  in  theory,  he  has  abro- 
gated this  in  practice,  and  in  consequence  everything  belongs 
to  the  king  to  give.  “ Only  a warrior  [king]  may  give  land 
to  a priest,”  it  is  said ; and,  conversely,  it  is  said  again : 
“ Land  may  be  taken  possession  of  only  by  a king.”  “It 
is  a Vedic  utterance  that  the  king  is  owner  of  the  wealth 
of  all  save  the  priests,”  is  another  statement  made  alike  by 
law  and  epic.  Furthermore,  although  the  epic  kings  are  per- 
petually admonished  by  the  sages  not  to  do  wrong  to  the 
people,  and  although  various  sins  against  them  are  enumer- 
ated as  possible,  — such  as  oppressive  corvee,  over-taxation, 


224 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW . 


and  the  like,  — yet  it  is  not  once  hinted  that  a king  should 
not  rob  his  subjects  of  land.  If  the  land  were  regarded  as 
originally  the  peasant's  own,  we  should  surely  meet  some- 
where in  the  vast  epic  literature  and  wide  range  of  legal 
£astra  some  such  note  as  we  hear  in  the  modern  peasant’s  de- 
fiant cry  that  “ the  king  owns  the  tax,  but  the  peasant  owns 
the  land.”  It  is  not  till  the  fifth  century  of  our  era  that  the 
king  is  admonished  “not  to  upset  the  two  fundaments  of 
the  peasant’s  life,  his  house  and  field.” 1 As  I have  already 
observed,  in  the  period  just  preceding  this  the  inhabitants  of 
the  country  are  represented  as  easily  moved  to  leave  their 
homes  and  go  elsewhere.  They  are,  in  fact,  especially  told  to 
do  so,  if  the  soil  or  the  king  is  “ bad.”  “ One  should  leave 
his  king  or  native  place  if  they  are  bad  [poor],  and  take  that 
to  be  his  country  where  he  can  earn  a living,”  is  an  epic 
dictum. 

Nor  are  the  laws  of  this  period  regarding  the  rights  of  kings 
contradictory.  The  king  is  declared  to  be  the  “preserver 
and  destroyer  ” of  his  people,  who  are  still,  as  of  old,  to  be 
“ devoured  ” by  taxes  or  otherwise,  as  the  king  sees  fit.  When 
he  needs  it,  “ the  king  may  take  all  the  possessions,  small  and 
great,  of  those  who  break  the  ten  commandments  [of  moral- 
ity],” and  “any  possessions  of  any  one  save  a priest.”  The 
king  further  gives  and  gambles  away  fields,  villages,  and  whole 
districts  at  pleasure.  Nor  is  such  a gift  of  a village  a presen- 
tation of  the  right  to  tax  alone.  The  recorded  copper-plate 
grants  of  the  first  centuries  after  Christ  explicitly  declare  of 
what  nature  was  this  ownership.  The  grantee  is  made  absolute 
owner,  not  relative,  as  in  the  case  of  an  over-lord.  We  must, 
I think,  interpret  the  agrahara  land-grants  mentioned  in  the 
epic  in  the  light  of  those  actually  extant.  It  follows  that 
while  the  king  had  every  reason  to  let  his  subjects  be  owners 
practically,  it  was  always  acknowledged  that  he  owned  the  land 
so  far  as  right  of  dispossession  went.  He  owned  it,  but  he  let 
his  subjects  live  on  it,  for  to  them  he  was  as  a “ father  to 
sons.”  But,  in  that  he  protected  them  and  needed  money,  he 


1 Narada’s  Law-Book. 


LAND-TENURE  IN  INDIA. 


225 


made  an  agreement  that  while  they  lived  on  his  land  they 
paid  him  for  living  there  securely.  In  other  words,  just  as 
the  king  might  take  all  a farmer’s  flocks  if  needed  and  annu- 
ally took  part  of  the  flocks  as  payment  (tax)  for  guarding  the 
farmer,  so  he  took  part  of  the  crop  as  payment  for  protection, 
not  as  rent,  although  as  universal  owner  the  land  was  his  if 
he  chose  to  take  it. 

We  may  then  assert  that,  according  to  the  notion  of  the 
time,  the  king  owned  the  land,  but  did  not  draw  rent  for  it. 
It  was  taxed  for  protection  only.  Yet  it  may  be  seen  even  in 
the  law-books  that  there  was  a gradual  decline  of  the  view 
that  gave  all  to  the  king,  and  a gradual  growth  of  the  view 
that  the  field  was  more  and  more  owned  altogether  by  the 
peasant  proprietor ; the  king’s  “ ownership  of  all  ” declining 
just  as  his  “ right  to  plunder  his  farmers  ” was  restricted  by 
advancing  civilization.  In  the  later  law  the  king’s  owner- 
ship disappeared  except  as  a theory. 

But  a good  deal  of  it  is  left  in  the  epic,  and  we  may  thus 
interpret  the  power  and  ownership  of  kings  in  the  light  of 
such  callous  remarks  as  meet  us  in  that  literature.  One  pas- 
sage of  the  epic  declares : “ All  property  is  the  result  of 
conquest  and  robbery.  The  best  property  is  that  which  one 
gets  by  taking  it  from  another.  When  kings  conquer  earth, 
they  speak  of  the  land  just  as  sons  do  of  their  father’s 
property  and  say : ‘ This  land  belongs  to  me.’  ” Of  the 
“ king-devoured  people  ” the  king  himself  was  absolute  master, 
and  it  seems  almost  unnecessary  to  urge  that  the  land  was 
his  or  his  subjects’,  in  accordance  with  the  tyrant’s  will. 
Sages  admonish,  but  the  kings  steal  and  give  and  take  as 
before.  To  them  in  their  power  there  was  but  one  rule,  — 
that  enunciated  again  as  a proverb  in  the  epic  : “ To  the 
mighty  all  is  proper ; to  the  mighty  all  is  right ; to  the  mighty 
all  is  their  own.”  That  is  to  say,  the  force  majeure  was  the 
determinant  factor.  Let  us  imagine  a state  where  the  king 
was  answerable  only  to  his  own  conscience  for  compensation 
given  to  a dispossessed  peasant,  and  we  have  the  Hindu’s 
earlier  rights  of  possession.  He  owned  land  as  against  his 

15 


226 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


fellow-subjects,  but  he  owned  it  as  against  the  king  just  as  the 
jackal  owns  what  the  tiger  wants. 

In  the  preceding  paragraphs  I have  referred  to  the  growth 
of  land-giving.  It  begins  with  a kingly  gift  of  a field  to  a 
priest.  The  early  law  does  not  approve  of  such  gifts,  but  the 
later  law  praises  them.  The  epic  extols  them  as  in  the 
highest  degree  meritorious.  The  practice  appears  to  have 
grown  up  in  the  large  eastern  kingdoms  and  is  a feature  of 
Buddhism.  The  epic  says  emphatically  that  all  property 
belongs  to  the  king  “ and  to  no  second  person  ” ; while  it 
mentions  several  cases  of  agrahara  land-grants,  though  it  does 
not  know  the  copper-plate  grant,  which  appears  first  in  the 
law-book  of  Yajnavalkya.  These  grants,  as  described  in  the 
epic,  are  made  either  to  priests  or  to  personal  friends  of  a 
king  or  queen.  Land-giving  on  a large  scale  is  called  an 
“earth  sacrifice.”  In  these  cases  the  recipients  become  actual 
owners,  not  over-lords. 

We  may  now  turn  from  this  sketch  of  the  past  and  see  how 
the  literary  evidence  is  borne  out  by  the  state  of  affairs  that 
exists  to-day.  To  do  this,  it  will  be  necessary  to  mention 
briefly  the  facts  as  given  in  Mr.  Baden-Powell's  comprehen- 
sive description  of  present  conditions. 

The  first  blow  to  the  old  interpretation  of  sociological  phe- 
nomena in  India  was  given  by  the  discovery  that,  instead  of 
a community  (in  the  strict  sense)  being  par  excellence  the 
village  of  India,  throughout  the  greater  part  of  the  country 
nothing  exists  that  even  resembles  such  a village.  All  over 
middle  and  southern  India,  in  the  east  and  also  in  the 
west,  there  is  one  common  type  of  village,  the  Raiyat 
(“ryot,”  subject,  peasant  farmer)  or  severalty  village.  Only 
in  the  northwest,  in  the  Punjab,  is  there  to  be  found  the 
kind  of  village  which  was  mistaken  by  Sir  Henry  Maine  for  a 
“ village  community.” 

To  understand  the  force  of  Mr.  Baden-Powell’s  objections 
to  the  theory  of  Sir  Henry  Maine,  we  must  comprehend  clearly 
the  essential  points  of  difference  between  the  types  of  villages 
referred  to.  There  are  two  main  classes  of  Hindu  villages, 


LAND-TENURE  IN  INDIA. 


227 


the  severalty  village  and  the  joint-village.  These  differ  in 
their  constitution  as  follows : The  severalty  or  Raiyat  village 
is  characterized  by  having  a “ head-man  ” (who  is  selected 
from  one  of  the  leading  families),  and  by  an  allotment  of 
shares  of  land  to  each  member  of  the  group.  In  this  kind  of 
village  every  member  is  responsible  individually  for  his  share 
of  any  tax  that  may  be  levied  on  the  village.  The  holdings 
are  periodically  distributed,  but  this  is  only  to  insure  sooner 
or  later  a fair  deal,  so  that  each  villager,  turn  and  turn  about, 
may  get  as  good  a farm  as  his  neighbor.  This  redistribution 
has  been  claimed  to  be  an  indication  of  an  early  communal 
holding,  but  wrongly ; for  the  privileged  families  do  not  and 
never  did  own  the  village  or  share  it  in  fractions  as  do  the 
members  of  a joint-village.  Four  peculiarities  distinguish 
this  type  of  village  from  the  most  perfect  kind  of  joint- 
village.  The  former  has  a Patel  “head-man”  ( patel );  the 
latter  has  none.  The  former  has  holdings  which  have  always 
been  separate ; the  latter  has  holdings  which  are  only  in- 
herited shares  of  an  original  single  estate.  The  former  has 
no  mutual  liability  for  taxes,  but  each  holding  is  assessed 
separately ; the  latter  has  a joint  liability,  the  revenue  being 
assessed  in  a lump  sum.  And,  finally,  the  Raiyat  village  has 
no  common  land,  whereas  the  joint-village  owns  a common 
land,  though  it  is  liable  to  partition. 

Such  is  the  one  general  form  of  the  severalty  village.  Of 
the  joint- village,  on  the  other  hand,  there  are  three  species. 
The  first,  or  most  perfect  kind,  is  the  Pattidari,  or  “ shared  ” 
ancestral  village,  where  the  community  are  the  descendants 
of  one  man  or  of  brothers ; the  second  is  the  Bhaiachar^,  or 
“ brotherhood  ” tribal  village,  where  a tribe,  or  it  may  be  a 
clan,  holds  land  under  joint  responsibility  for  the  taxes ; the 
third  is  the  associate  village,  where  different  families  make 
up  a united  group  simply  for  defence  in  holding  their  land 
against  outsiders.  A moment’s  consideration  of  the  condi- 
tions under  which  land  is  possessed  in  each  of  these  groups 
shows  that  the  tribal  and  associate  forms  are  not  in  any  sense 
a body  of  communal  owners. 


228 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


In  the  tribal  joint-village  the  shares  have  always  been  held 
separately,  having  been  originally  allotted  to  each  member  of 
the  group.  The  members  are  joint  only  in  their  united 
ownership  of  waste  land  and  of  the  village  site,  together  with 
a united  responsibility  for  taxes.  This  kind  of  joint- village 
is  really  a sort  of  severalty  village,  and  such  a tribal  allot- 
ment has  actually  been  the  starting-point  of  the  true  severalty 
village,  as  shown  in  the  primitive  (matriarchal)  Kolarian 
village. 

In  the  associate  joint-village  there  is  still  less  of  real  joint- 
ownership.  Here  the  shares  are  equal,  and,  as  in  the  last 
case,  are  not  derived  from  a common  ancestor.  The  village 
is  founded  by  families  or  colonists  who  take  up  land  and  allot 
it  at  once.  These  families  or  colonists  may  or  not  be  of  the 
same  tribe.  They  associate  only  for  mutual  protection,  and 
are  joint  only  in  assuming  a united  responsibility  for  taxes. 

The  villages  of  these  two  species  are  chiefly  quite  modern. 
They  belong  to  the  western  and  eastern  Punjab  respectively, 
and  their  inhabitants  are  Jats  and  other  non-Aryan  tribes. 
The  severalty  village,  generally  speaking,  is  Dra vidian. 

There  remains,  as  the  only  unit  resembling  a village  com- 
munity, the  ancestral  joint-family  village.  But  here  all  the 
shares  are  inherited  portions  of  an  estate  originally  owned  by 
one  man  (or  two  brothers),  who  became  the  rulers  of  the  vil- 
lage. His  property,  the  village,  passed  to  his  joint-heirs 
(agnates  only,  in  itself  an  argument  against  communal  owner- 
ship), and  might  or  might  not  be  divided  at  the  option  of  the 
heirs.  Sometimes  part  is  divided  and  part  not.  In  any  case, 
the  heirs  hold  the  property  always  liable  to  division,  so  that 
even  in  their  case  there  is  no  communal  holding.  Still  less 
does  the  whole  village  own  the  land,  which  is  generally  rented 
to  tenants,  the  rents  being  divided  among  the  descendants  of 
the  original  lord  of  the  manor.  Even  when  the  estate  is  undi- 
vided, each  heir  is  actually  in  possession  of  a special  part  and 
holds  it  for  his  own  benefit. 

We  are  now  able  to  understand  just  what  the  indications 
and  express  statements  of  ancient  literature  imply  (for  even 


LAND-TENURE  IN  INDIA. 


229 


express  statements  about  real  estate  are  not  explicit  as  regards 
communes).  We  find  there  a joint-family  and  also  an  undi- 
vided family.  Some  of  the  property  is  partible.  Some  of  it 
is  not.  A field,  it  is  said,  is  impartible.  But  the  later  the 
legal  authority,  the  more  inclined  is  he  to  find  ways  in  which 
property  formerly  impartible  can  be  made  partible.  The  ori- 
ginally impartible  condition  of  landed  estate  is  evidenced 
among  other  things  by  the  fact  that  it  cannot  be  lost  to  a 
family  by  an  outsider’s  possession.  All  the  inhabitants  of  a 
village  are  responsible  for  its  debts.  They  have  a common 
meadow-land  for  grazing,  but  separate  fields  for  the  individual 
villager  whose  property  is  demarcated,  and  whose  right  of 
possession  ceases  at  the  boundary  or  is  shared  (as  in  the  case 
of  fruit-trees  growing  on  the  line)  by  his  next  neighbor  only. 
A field  may  be  rented  for  half  its  yield  by  the  individual  vil- 
lager. But  a field  cannot  be  sold  without  the  consent  of  the 
whole  village,  or  at  least  of  the  family. 

Such  are  the  data  of  the  legal  literature,  and  they  are  sup- 
ported by  the  evidence  of  the  earliest  inscriptions.  It  follows 
that  while  a common  ownership  was  exercised  by  the  village, 
there  was  within  the  village  private  ownership  of  land,  which 
was  inherited  as  impartible  property  by  the  sons  (and  widow). 
But  alongside  of  this  was  also  the  severalty  arrangement, 
which  in  many  cases  overthrew  this  joint-ownership.  The 
types  then  were  severalty  and  joint  villages,  and  not  com- 
munal types.  The  most  communistic  form  is  the  still  undi- 
vided inheritance  of  a joint-family  ; but  this  is  an  estate  which 
is  always  liable  to  partition.  As  it  seems  to  me,  the  joint- 
family  with  its  original  common  ownership  of  land  is  sufficient 
to  account  for  all  such  traces  of  communistic  land-ownership 
as  we  have  any  record  of,  and  the  joint-ownership  of  the  vil- 
lage had  only  the  form  of  the  modern  “ joint- village.”  As 

to-day,  so  of  old,  villages  were  of  the  joint  and  severalty  class, 
but  they  were  not  communal  in  the  strict  sense. 


THE  CAUSE  AND  CURE  OF  FAMINE. 


To  venture  to  address  even  the  most  intelligent  or  dispas- 
sionate audience  on  any  phase  of  England’s  responsibility 
toward  India  (such  as  her  responsibility  for  drought  and 
famine),  is,  I fear,  sadly  like  the  recklessness  of  the  man 
that  should  intrude  himself  between  the  devil  and  the  deep 
sea.  For  on  the  one  side  stands  the  pessimist,  who  holds 
England  guilty  of  grave  crimes,  sees  no  virtue  in  her,  and 
expects  only  future  ill  from  her  future  rule;  while,  on  the 
other,  stands  the  optimist,  who  brooks  no  adverse  criticism 
of  England’s  actions  and  maintains  that  her  rule  is  as  benefi- 
cent as  it  is  benevolent. 

But  it  is  neither  as  a reviler  nor  as  a defender  of  England 
that  I have  accepted  the  invitation  to  speak  to  you  of  fam- 
ines in  India,  but  rather  as  an  historian,  who  sees  in  sundry 
statements  made  by  well-meaning  partisans  certain  points 
capable,  perhaps,  of  being  put  more  clearly  than  any  parti- 
sanship can  put  them.  It  is  then  rather  to  the  past  than  to 
the  present  that  I shall  invite  your  attention,  and  if  I speak 
of  the  future  it  will  be  only  as  a picture  which  may  be 
drawn  in  the  light  of  the  past.  For  this  reason  I shall  pass 
over  altogether  certain  features,  such  as  the  recent  demone- 
tization of  silver,  which  lie  outside  of  my  point  of  view ; nor 
shall  I descant  on  the  horrors  of  famine,  of  which  you  have 
doubtless  already  heard  more  than  enough.  But,  to  begin 
with  a subject  remote  from  all  possible  partisan  interest,  let 
me  first  call  your  attention  to  the  Bengal  tiger. 

For  many  centuries  the  most  useful  beast  in  India  was  the 
tiger.  The  Hindus  preferred  the  gentle  cow  and  finally  dei- 
fied her,  not  exactly  as  the  Golden  Calf,  but  at  any  rate  as 


THE  CAUSE  AND  CURE  OF  FAMINE. 


231 


the  Divinely  Useful ; for  in  their  time  the  Hindus  too  have 
been  utilitarians.  But  they  were  rather  inclined  to  ignore 
the  tiger  (except  for  a significant  exchange  of  compliments 
in  calling  a king  the  tiger  among  men  and  a tiger  the  king 
among  animals) ; nor  did  they  even  vex  themselves  with  the 
question  why  the  tiger  was  created,  for  their  sufficient  phi- 
losophy taught  that  he  was  made  to  enjoy  himself.  So  they 
never  really  appreciated  his  function  in  the  scheme  of  crea- 
tion, — an  ignorance  the  more  remarkable  since  they  were  on 
the  edge  of  discovering  the  truth,  when  they  epitomized  his 
work  in  the  verse: 

The  wood  doth  guard  the  tiger  as  the  tiger  guards  the  wood. 

The  tiger  guarded  the  wood,  and  in  guarding  it  he  helped 
for  many  centuries  to  save  the  Hindu  and  the  cow  from 
extreme  drought  and  famine.  His  place  in  the  economy  of 
Hindu  civilization  was  to  keep  man  and  man’s  destructive  axe 
out  of  the  great  reservoir  of  rain,  the  primeval  forest,  and 
if  we  may  trust  the  literature,  which  reflects  the  fear  man 
felt  when  wandering  in  the  tiger’s  domain,  the  latter  played 
his  part  pretty  well.  All  that  great  bare  belt  of  country 
which  now  stretches  south  of  the  Ganges  — that  vast  waste 
where  drought  seems  to  be  perennial  and  famine  is  as  much 
at  home  as  is  £iva  in  a graveyard  — was  once  an  almost  im- 
penetrable wood.  Luxuriant  growth  filled  it;  self -irrigated, 
it  kept  the  fruit  of  the  summer’s  rain  till  winter,  while  the 
light  winter  rains  were  treasured  there  in  turn  till  the  June 
monsoon  came  again.  Even  as  late  as  the  epic  period,  it  was 
a hero’s  derring-do  to  wander  through  that  forest-world  south 
of  the  Nerbudda,  which  at  that  time  was  a great  inexhaustible 
river,  its  springs  conserved  by  the  forest.  Now  the  forest  is 
gone,  the  hills  are  bare,  the  valley  is  unprotected,  and  the 
Nerbudda  dries  up  like  a brook,  while  starved  cattle  lie  down 
to  die  on  the  parched  clay  that  should  be  a river’s  bed.  A 
little  later  than  the  time  when  the  heroes  of  the  epic,  as  is 
narrated  therein,  first  set  fire  to  the  tiger’s  lair,  there  were 
roads  and  settlements  here  and  there  through  the  great  forest. 


232 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


The  heroes  had  broken  out  the  path  for  civilization  and  the 
civilians  followed,  but  slowly  and  cautiously,  for  the  tiger 
still  guarded  the  wood.  But  in  the  end  man  triumphed  over 
Nature’s  other  children,  and  in  burning  and  felling  the  for- 
est of  the  Deccan  planted  the  seed  of  famine  over  a wide  area ; 
whereas  hitherto  this  noxious  plant,  though  by  no  means  un- 
known, had  been  restricted  in  its  growth. 

For  in  India  famine  is  the  child  of  drought,  and  no  one 
need  starve  who  has  enough  water,  unless  indeed  the  crop  be 
stolen  after  the  water  has  done  its  work.  But  this  unless,  it 
must  be  added,  shows  that  famine  may  be  due  to  something 
besides  drought.  And  as  it  would  be  only  a half-truth  to 
state  that  famine  is  due  in  all  cases  entirely  to  drought,  so 
it  is  just  such  a “veiled  lie,”  as  the  Hindus  call  a half-truth, 
to  say  that  either  deforestation  or  robbery  (whether  in  the 
guise  of  dacoits  or  tax-collectors)  is  alone  the  cause  of 
famine.  For  despite  the  good  work  done  by  the  tiger,  there 
were  droughts  that  produced  famines  or  ever  there  were 
tax-collectors. 

This  would  seem  to  be  so  much  a matter  of  course  as  to 
make  insistence  upon  the  point  quite  unnecessary,  did  we 
not  constantly  hear  expressed  the  half-truth  that  famine 
is  a modern  invention  resulting  from  British  oppression. 
Drought  there  may  have  been  in  ancient  times,  says  the 
stanch  opponent  of  British  wrong-doing,  but  famine  never; 
for  the  cultivator,  not  having  his  crop  stolen,  was  able  to 
draw  from  his  store  and  weather  the  weather  till  the  rains 
came  again. 

But  as  there  are  various  sides  to  this  question,  so  there  are 
various  half-truths,  concealments  of  facts  and  distortions  of 
history,  which  must  be  examined  in  the  order  in  which  they 
arise,  before  we  can  even  begin  to  come  near  the  cover  of 
bare  facts  which  compose  the  body  of  truth  itself. 

First,  then,  as  regards  the  proposition  that  famine  is  the 
result  of  British  oppression  solely. 

That  British  rule  is  oppressive,  is  granted  even  by  the 
British,  who,  indeed,  are  wont  to  admit  it  very  cheerfully,  for, 


THE  CAUSE  AND  CURE  OF  FAMINE. 


233 


as  Lord  Salisbury  has  implied,  “India  must  be  bled,”  and 
bleeding  a body  half  dead  from  inanition  it  is  no  exaggera- 
tion to  describe  as  a form  of  oppression.1 

But  it  is  one  thing  to  say  that  there  is  oppression  and 
another  to  affirm  that  it  is  universal,  and  that  as  such  it  is 
the  sole  parent  of  famine.  The  first  famine-cry  comes  from 
the  most  ancient  records  of  India : — 

The  waters  of  the  upper  sea  in  heaven  were  prisoned  by  the  gods, 

But  the  wise  priest  released  them  all  (removed  the  drought, 
and  wet  the  sods). 

He,  praying,  sang  the  magic  verse;  the  rain-compelling  voice 
had  he, 

God,  free  us  from  the  Hunger-ill  and  give  that  magic  word  to 
me2  — 

Let  loose  for  us  on  earth  the  rain  — the  waters  of  yon  heavenly 
sea! 

Here  the  descendant  or  imitator  of  the  ancient  priest,  who 
had  the  “rain-compelling  voice,”  calls  to  mind  the  famous 
famine  of  old,  and  in  his  present  distress,  with  the  artless  sim- 
plicity of  the  virtuous,  begs  from  the  highest  rain-god  that  gift 
of  speech  which,  with  magical  power,  shall  force  the  gods  to 
give  up  the  rain  they  have  withheld,  and  preserve  man  from 
the  Hunger-ill  that  will  follow  the  drought.  But  this  is  only 
one  of  many  voices  raised  in  the  Rig  Veda  in  supplication 
to  the  gods,  who  are  over  and  over  besought  to  drive  away 
the  plague  of  hunger: 

0 Indra  (rain-god),  give  food  and  strength  to  us  who  are 
hungry. 

1 Lord  Salisbury’s  remark,  however,  was  in  defence  of  the  praiseworthy 
idea  that  the  cultivators  should  be  spared  at  the  expense  of  the  towns.  That 
India  must  be  bled  follows  from  his  further  reply,  “We  cannot  afford  it,”  to 
the  suggestion  that  the  tax  on  the  cultivator  should  be  limited  to  “ fifty  per 
cent,  on  the  gross  produce”  (sic)  of  each  farm.  The  former  passage  is  as  fol- 
lows : “ As  India  must  be  bled,  the  lancet  should  be  directed  to  the  parts  where 
the  blood  is  congested,  or  at  least  sufficient,  not  to  those  which  are  already 
feeble  from  the  want  of  it.” 

2 The  place  of  this  verse  in  the  original  is  before  the  others ; literally,  “ the 
voice  that  has  strength  (to)  free  from  the  hunger-plague  and  win  rain.” 


234 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


Help  us  with  thy  help,  powerful  god,  save  us  from  this 
(present)  plague,  hunger  and  wretchedness. 

Indra,  do  thou  keep  drought  and  hunger  from  our  pasture. 

Compare  also  this  significant  remark : 

The  gods  did  not  give  hunger  as  the  only  death.1 

So  general,  in  fact,  was  this  cry,  that  the  word  “plague,” 
amlva,  as  used  above,  became  synonymous  with  “famine,” 
anagana. 

And  beginning  with  this  remote  age,  we  can  trace  the 
same  cry  down  through  the  centuries,  past  the  Atharvan 
poet,  who  prays  that  the  sun  may  not  ruin  his  crop,  to  the 
epic  period,  when  we  observe  that  the  gods  were  no  longer 
trusted  over-much.  For  besides  the  system  of  irrigation, 
which  was  introduced  in  the  earliest  age  and  is  alluded  to 
in  the  Rig  Veda,  we  find  the  belief  that  it  was  necessary  to 
help  out  the  ever-dubious  intentions  of  the  gods.  Even  in 
the  Vedic  verses  just  cited,  the  gods,  not  the  usual  devil  of 
drought,  are  represented  as  imprisoning  the  waters.  But  in 
the  epic,  a sage  says  to  the  king  whom  he  is  visiting:  “I 
hope  all  goes  well  in  your  Majesty’s  kingdom  and  that  you 
do  not  trust  in  the  gods  for  harvests.”  The  implication  is 
that  a king  would  not  leave  the  gods  to  provide  water  for 
the  farmers.  For  the  good  kings  of  the  epic,  far  from  trust- 
ing too  much  in  the  gods,  built  canals  and  reservoirs  as  their 
first  duty,  irrigating  the  country  as  well  as  they  could.  But 
when  their  gods,  who,  like  Herakles,  were  pleased  to  see 
them  exert  themselves,  rewarded  them  with  extreme  favor, 
then  it  was  said  in  laudation  of  such  a king,  and  as  a proof 
of  his  extraordinarily  good  fortune,  that  “ in  the  reign  of  this 
king  there  was  no  famine.” 

But,  as  is  implied  even  with  this  praise,  famine  in  other 
reigns  was  no  rarity.  Nay,  not  once,  but  repeatedly,  we 
find  allusions  in  the  epic  to  “a  drought  that  lasted  many 

1 These  passages  will  be  found  in  the  Rig  Veda,  x.  98 ; i.  104, 7 ; viii.  66, 14 ; 
viii.  60,  20  ( anira  and  Icsudh) ; x.  117,  1. 


THE  CAUSE  AND  CURE  OF  FAMINE. 


235 


years,”  bahuvarsiki,  and  again,  more  specifically:  “Now  at 
that  time  there  was  a twelve-year  drought.”  This  last 
expression,  though  it  is,  I confess,  a close  parallel  to  the 
preceding,  may  possibly  be  taken  in  a sense  other  than  that 
usually  given  by  the  poets  themselves  to  the  adjective 
“twelve-year;”  namely,  in  the  sense  of  the  drought  which 
comes  every  twelve  years.  As  is  well  known,  a drought 
does  come  about  once  in  a dozen  years.  Thus  “ the  twelve- 
year  drought  ” may  refer  to  such  a phenomenon  as  well  as  to 
a drought  lasting  twelve  years,  just  as  “yearly,”  varsika,  is 
used  either  of  something  lasting  for  a year,  for  example, 
a food-supply  for  a year,  or  of  something  which  comes 
once  a year,  for  example,  an  annual  tribute.1 

Now  it  may  be  said  by  those  who  believe  that  drought  does 
not  necessarily  entail  death,  that  here  also  there  is  no  proof 
of  drought  resulting  in  famine.  But  the  answer  to  this  is 
that  whenever  such  mention  of  drought  occurs,  the  next 
thing:  noticed  is  the  famine  that  followed  it.  Thus,  in  one 
account:  “Now  at  that  time  came  a (or  the)  twelve-year 
drought.  The  store  of  food  was  exhausted,  and  there  was 
no  food.”  The  descriptions  of  such  famines  are  sufficiently 
vivid  to  make  it  certain  that  the  scenes  were  drawn  from 
life.  Proverb-literature,  too,  than  which  nothing  more  faith- 
fully reflects  the  face  of  the  times,  assumes  that  drought, 
famine,  and  the  ruin  of  a district  is  the  ordinary  sequence 
of  events : “ Happy,  indeed,  are  they  who,  when  their  dis- 
trict is  smitten  by  drought,  and  the  grain  is  all  destroyed, 
do  not  see  their  district  ruined  and  their  family  extermi- 
nated.” What,  I would  ask,  can  these  words  signify,  if  not 
that  it  is  a rare  event  for  the  peasant  to  survive  unharmed 
through  the  famine  that  naturally  follows  drought?  Even 
the  law  was  changed  to  suit  famine-times,  and  though  the 

1 The  poets,  indeed,  employ  the  adjective  “ twelve-year  ” as  if  it  implied  a 
period  of  twelve  years ; but  it  would  have  been  a simple  matter  to  use  a 
phrase  of  one  meaning  in  the  other  sense,  which  was  possible  and  much 
more  picturesque  for  the  poets’  purpose.  The  Sanskrit  word  is  ( anavrstir ) 
dradafavarsiH.  There  is,  however,  as  noticed  below,  a record  in  more  modern 
times  of  one  drought  that  lasted  twelve  years. 


236 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


usual  rule  is  that  a man  may  not  take  his  wife’s  property, 
we  read  that,  “In  famine,  if  a man  has  taken  his  wife’s 
property  to  support  life  (that  is,  probably,  sold  her  silver 
bangles,  as  many  have  had  to  do  in  the  recent  famine)  he  is 
not  obliged  to  refund  it.” 

We  must  conclude,  then,  that  not  only  in  the  Punjab, 
whence  perhaps  came  the  earliest  hunger-cry,  but  even  in 
the  tiger-districts  along  the  lower  Ganges,  drought  and  fam- 
ine were  painfully  familiar  before  the  British  took  a hand  in 
starving  the  peasants.  The  forest  and  the  rivers,  as  shown 
in  the  literature,  prevented  an  effect  so  wide-spread  as  is 
customary  to-day,  but  the  destruction  of  forests  was  the 
work  of  the  Hindus  themselves.1 

Thus  we  see,  on  the  evidence  of  the  Hindus’  own  ancient 
literature,  that  famine  obtained  in  India  from  the  earliest 
times.  The  claim,  therefore,  that  drought  is  converted  into 
famine  only  under  British  rule  may  be  set  down  as  simply 
preposterous.  Nor  do  we  even  have  to  revert  to  the  evi- 
dence of  the  earlier  literature,  for  the  same  conditions  existed 
from  the  fourteenth  to  the  seventeenth  century,  when  the 
British  were  as  yet  unconcerned  with  taxation  in  India.  That 
these  historical  cases  have  been  ignored  altogether,  does  not 
redound  to  the  credit  of  those  who  have  discussed  the  sub- 
ject. For  it  was,  perhaps,  not  to  be  expected  that  an  Eng- 
lish statistician  should  be  conversant  with  ancient  Hindu 
literature;  but  that  any  one  who  can  read  English  should 
insist  that  famine  was  unknown  in  India  prior  to  the  as- 
sumption of  power  by  the  British  is  quite  unpardonable 
in  the  light  of  records  accessible  to  all.  The  very  worst 
famine  known  in  Hindu  history  came  in  1396.  It  is 
known  as  the  “dreadful  famine,”  and  according  to  native 
accounts  it  lasted  for  twelve  years  (unless  this  again  was  a 

1 I pass  over  the  case  of  famine  resulting  not  from  drought  but  from  too 
much  water,  since,  so  far  as  I know,  the  British  have  not  been  made  responsi- 
ble for  this  form  of  distress.  It  is  referred  to  in  a proverb,  which  deprecates 
“ too  much  ” (a  native  priSiv  &yav) : “ Through  too  great  cold  the  wood  is 
burned,  through  too  much  rain  the  famine  comes  ; too  much  is  ever  bad  ” (ati 
kutra  ‘pi  ne  ’ xyati ) 


THE  CAUSE  AND  CURE  OF  FAMINE. 


237 


case  of  the  twelve-year  famine).  At  any  rate,  its  effects 
were  felt  in  “ very  scant  revenue  ” for  thirty  years  after- 
wards, and  “whole  districts  were  entirely  depopulated,” 
according  to  the  native  historians  of  Maharashtra,  where 
this  famine  occurred,  as  is  duly  set  forth  in  Grant  Duff’s 
History  of  the  Mahrattas.  Then  there  was  another  famine 
north  of  the  Godavari  at  the  end  of  the  fifteenth  century; 
while  in  1629-1630,  “ famine  and  pestilence  ” ensued  upon  a 
drought  in  the  Deccan  (more  particularly  in  Bombay  itself 
in  1618).  So  under  Moghul  rule,  we  have  this  testimony  of 
Antonio  de  Mello  de  Castro  in  1662:  “The  Moghuls  have 
destroyed  these  lands,  through  which  cause  many  persons 
have  died  from  famine.”1  And  before  leaving  this  side  of 
the  question,  since  the  benign  rule  of  the  Moghul  is  often 
contrasted  by  native  writers  with  the  inhuman  rule  of  the 
British,  I will  notice  the  words  of  an  unprejudiced  witness 
cited  by  Sir  Alfred  Lyall  in  his  Rise  of  the  British  Domin- 
ion in  India  (p.  34).  In  a letter  to  Colbert,  Bernier  writes: 
“The  country  is  ruined.  . . . No  adequate  idea  can  be  con- 
veyed of  the  sufferings  of  that  people.” 

We  are  now  in  a position  to  view  with  more  critical  appre- 
ciation the  statement  that  famine  to-day  in  India  is  caused 
solely  by  British  taxation.  After  Mr.  Hyndman’s  diatribe, 
entitled  The  Bankruptcy  of  India,  which  was  published  many 
years  ago,  Mr.  Romesh  Dutt,  in  his  recent  book,  Famines  in 
India,  has  taken  up  the  task  of  proving  that  if  not  too 
heavily  taxed  by  the  British  the  native  farmer  would  never 
suffer  from  famine.  Mr.  Dutt  goes  to  the  extreme  of  saying 
that  there  would  be  no  famine  at  all,  but  only  a scarcity 
easily  borne  by  the  thrifty  farmer,  who  would  save  enough  in 
years  of  plenty  to  tide  him  over  the  effects  of  drought.  The 
proof  of  this  is  drawn  from  the  cases  of  famine  in  the  last 
century,  and  the  assertion  is  made  that  there  has  been  no 
famine  where  the  tax  has  been  light. 

There  is  quite  a difference  in  the  way  in  which  various 
parts  of  India  are  taxed.  Generally  speaking,  the  northern 

1 Da  Cunha,  Origin  of  Bombay,  p.  247. 


238 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


part  is  lightly  taxed,  and  the  middle  and  south  are  heavily 
taxed.  The  last  famine  was  most  severely  felt  in  the  middle 
part,  one  illustration  of  the  theory. 

But  where  are  the  other  necessary  illustrations,  and  is  even 
this  one  convincing?  The  latter  question  maybe  answered 
first.  In  stating  that  the  excessive  severity  of  famine  in  the 
Central  Provinces,  in  1897,  was  due  entirely  to  the  fact  that 
they  were  more  heavily  taxed  than  were  the  Punjab  and 
Bengal  Provinces,  the  following  items  have  been  altogether 
omitted  from  consideration : There  was  much  greater  drought 
in  the  Central  Provinces,  it  began  earlier,  continued  later, 
and  was  more  severe.1  There  is  a superb  system  of  irriga- 
tion in  the  Punjab,  but  none  in  the  Central  Provinces.  The 
soil  of  the  northeastern  part  of  the  country  is  much  richer 
and  the  harvest  larger  than  in  the  Central  Provinces.  The 
people  of  both  the  northwestern  and  northeastern  parts  of 
the  country  needed  only  to  be  invited  to  come  to  the  relief- 
works  (they  are  a much  more  intelligent  class) ; whereas  a 
large  proportion  of  those  who  died  of  famine  in  the  Central 
Provinces  were  half  wild,  only  lately  touched  by  civilization, 
and  it  was  almost  impossible  to  get  them  to  leave  their  vil- 
lages and  come  to  relief-works. 

O 

That  these  are  rather  important  items,  will,  I think,  be 
admitted,  and  to  omit  these  factors  in  considering  the  reason 
why  the  Central  Provinces  suffered  most  is  to  weaken  the 
force  of  this  illustration  to  a minimum.  Then  for  the  other 
illustrations : 

The  terrible  famines  of  1770  and  1784  were  caused  in  part 
by  maladministration.  But  at  that  time  all  taxes  were  severe, 
and  they  were  all  but  a portion  of  a far  greater  burden.  The 
famine  of  Bombay  in  1803  was  aggravated  by  the  Mahrattas, 
who  devastated  the  country  and  prevented  the  planting  of 
crops.  In  1804  there  was  a famine  in  North  India,  but  the 
ravages  of  a native  army  had  here  also  devastated  the  coun- 

1 The  Viceroy,  on  his  trip  early  in  the  winter,  while  still  in  the  northern 
part  of  the  country,  could  still  say,  “ There  is  no  famine  so  far  as  I can  see,” 
while  peasants  were  already  dying  of  hunger  in  the  Central  Provinces. 


THE  CAUSE  AND  CURE  OF  FAMINE. 


239 


try.  So  terrible  were  these  ravages  that  maladministration 
and  mistakes  made  in  land  revenue  administration  can  be 
counted  only  as  very  subsidiary  factors.  The  heavy  tax  of 
two-thirds  the  rental  in  North  India  was  modified  in  1855, 
so  that  in  1860  the  moderate  tax,  which  is  now  looked  upon 
as  an  effective  antidote  to  famine,  had  already  been  in  force 
for  several  years;  yet  in  1860  there  was  a very  severe  famine 
there.  In  1874  there  would  have  been  in  Bengal  a million 
deaths  from  famine,  had  not  the  government  foreseen  it  and 
provided  assistance.  Yet,  strange  to  say,  the  fact  that  the 
people,  when  aided  by  the  government,  did  not  starve  under 
the  permanent  settlement,  as  they  would  have  done  if  left  to 
themselves,  is  not  ascribed  to  the  beneficent  intervention  of 
the  government,  but  to  the  permanent  settlement.  So  the 
absence  of  permanent  settlement  is  made  the  cause  of  the 
great  Orissa  famine  in  1866,  though  in  that  case  death  was 
due  to  the  fact  that  there  was  no  railway  to  carry  a food- 
supply,  and  the  people  were  killed  by  floods  as  much  as  by 
famine.  This  particular  famine  is  ascribed  to  British  oppres- 
sion by  Mr.  Dutt,  as  opposed  to  the  light  taxation  of  the 
Bengal  Zamindar,  so  that  it  is  interesting  to  see  that  the 
same  famine  is  ascribed  by  Mr.  Hyndman  in  his  Bank- 
rupcty  of  India  (p.  52j  to  the  Zamindar  himself.  Then, 
again,  there  was  a drought  in  1876  in  North  India,  when, 
as  the  conditions  were  those  in  which,  according  to  this 
tax-theory,  no  famine  can  arise,  famine  surely  ought  not 
to  have  followed.  But  what  happened?  How  did  the 
greatly  improved  rate  of  taxation  affect  the  country? 
There  was  a very  severe  famine  with  an  “ excess  mortality  of 
1,250,000.”  How  much  better  showing  is  this  than  that 
made  in  the  over-taxed  Madras  Province  in  the  famines  of 
1889  and  1892? 

A review  of  famine-conditions  during  the  century  fails  to 
establish  that  smaller  assessments  of  taxes  have  in  themselves 
made  famines  much  less  fatal.  Famines  have  been  more  fatal 
in  over-assessed  districts  because  the  heavier  tax  has  always 
coincided  with  more  important  factors;  that  is  to  say,  the 


240 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


district  where  the  tax,  owing  to  amount  and  permanency,  is 
least  heavy  is  the  most  fertile  district  of  India  or  the  best 
irrigated.  But  even  in  these  districts,  notwithstanding  fer- 
tility, irrigation,  and  a light  tax,  millions  die  of  famine. 
There  may  be  more  who  die  under  a heavier  tax,  hut  the 
proportion  is  not  strikingly  different  or  greater  than  can  be 
otherwise  accounted  for.  In  fine,  the  tax  itself  is  only  one 
factor  out  of  many. 

As  long  ago  as  the  law-book  of  Manu,  it  was  asserted  that 
famine  is  the  inevitable  concomitant  of  bad  government,  — 
a view  that  is  insisted  upon  also  by  the  epic  writers.  But 
those  enlightened  writers  of  antiquity  did  not  teach  that 
over-taxation  caused  famine,  but  that  famine  was  caused 
by  drought,  and  that  drought  was  to  be  avoided  by  good 
government,  as  shown  by  irrigation  and  the  construction 
of  artificial  reservoirs.  They  taught,  moreover,  that  when, 
because  of  insufficient  provision  against  drought,  famine 
resulted,  then  it  was  the  business  of  the  government 
to  remit  taxes  and  advance  loans  to  the  cultivators. 
This  was  insisted  upon  less  from  a philanthropic  motive 
than  on  the  economic  ground  that  ruined  cultivators  ruin 
a realm. 

When,  however,  we  turn  to  the  ancient  records  of  India  to 
see  how  the  Hindus  governed  themselves,  we  find  at  once 
that  we  must  make  a sharp  distinction  between  the  reign  of 
law  and  the  savage  period  that  has  left  its  traces  on  the  ante- 
legal  literature.  I say  savage,  for  though  there  were  cities 
and  a kind  of  civilization,  yet  the  kings  of  this  period  not 
only  were  savage  as  regards  their  attitude  toward  the  farmers, 
but  they  were  told  (by  the  priests)  to  be  so ; whereas,  on  the 
other  hand,  in  the  later  legal  literature,  the  cruel  king  who 
devours  his  people  is  referred  to  only  as  a horrible  possibility. 
We  may  take  the  praise  of  kings  cum  grano  salis,  and  admit 
that  even  in  the  legal  period  there  were  probably  bad  rulers, 
as,  indeed,  it  is  frankly  admitted  in  epic  poetry  of  about  the 
same  time  that  bad  kings  still  devoured  their  people,  and 


THE  CAUSE  AND  CURE  OF  FAMINE. 


241 


that  the  rich  man  feared  the  king  as  he  did  death  itself.1 
But  at  this  time  there  was  strenuously  inculcated  at  least, 
not  only  as  a duty  but  as  a precept  of  common-sense,  the 
rule  that  the  people  are  not  made  to  be  “eaten,”  but  to  be 
protected,  “for  by  heavy  taxation  the  king  cuts  his  own 
root.”  So  it  marks  an  advance  when  we  read  on  the  one 
hand  that  the  people  are  there  only  “ to  be  devoured  ” by 
king  and  priest,  and  on  the  other  that  “the  king  who  de- 
vours his  people  by  unjust  taxation  goes  to  hell.”  In  treat- 
ing elsewhere  of  land-tenure,  I have  spoken  of  this  very 
savage  time,  when  the  kings  were  “tigers  among  men”  in 
more  senses  than  one.  I refer  to  it  here  only  as  a not 
surprising  historical  item,  reflecting  neither  praise  nor  blame 
upon  those  valiant  kings  who,  as  might  have  been  expected 
from  the  age  they  lived  in,  were  frank  practisers  of  the 
doctrine  taught  them  by  the  priests  (as  any  one  may  read  in 
their  sacred  books)  that  the  agricultural  class  existed  only 
to  support  the  aristocracy  of  nobles  and  priests  and  might 
be  plundered  at  pleasure.  When,  therefore,  our  modern 
native  authors,  in  their  most  laudable  zeal  to  improve  the 
state  of  their  poor  fellow-countrymen,  tell  us  that  the  good 
old  Hindu  kings  never  over-taxed,  we  must  inquire  which 
kings  they  refer  to. 

For  there  were  good  kings  in  India.  In  the  legal  period, 
which  is  still  remote  enough  to  claim  an  antiquity  of  over 
two  thousand  years,  there  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  the 
earlier  rapacity  of  the  kings  had  been  in  part  checked  by  the 
growth  of  the  third  estate,  through  developed  agricultural 
and  mercantile  life,  and  that  kings  were  rather  protectors 
than  robbers  of  their  people.  To  these  kings  and  their  times 
it  is  perfectly  legitimate  to  refer  as  an  example  of  the  way 
the  people  were  treated  by  ancient  native  rulers. 

The  tax  in  old  times  under  these  native  kings  was  sixteen 

1 “ As  living  creatures  fear  death,  so  the  rich  fear  a king,”  Mbh.  iii.  2,  39. 
Elsewhere,  ib.  xiii.  61,  33,  it  is  said  that  a rascal-king,  rajakali,  who  fails  to  pro- 
tect or  taxes  too  heavily,  “ should  be  killed  like  a mad  dog,”  nihantavyah  fveva 
sonmada  aturoh. 


16 


242 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


and  two-thirds  per  cent,  of  the  gross  produce.  This  is  not  a 
mere  theory  or  legal  fiction,  for  so  regular  was  this  rate  that 
the  king,  and  in  no  other  way  could  he  have  received  this 
sobriquet , was  known  universally  through  legal  and  epic  and 
later  popular  literature,  as  the  “sixth-taker.”  One  sixth,  ig- 
noring his  agents , was  the  king's  share  till  the  time  of  the 
Cholas,  a thousand  years  ago.  It  was  increased  only  when 
the  existence  of  the  state  was  imperilled,  at  which  time 
twenty-five  per  cent,  might  be  taken  as  an  extreme  measure, 
though  not  as  the  most  extreme;  for  it  is  expressly  stated 
that  if  a king  absolutely  needed  it,  he  might  take  what  he 
chose  from  his  wealthy  subjects.  But,  having  defended 
the  people  by  means  of  the  funds  raised  in  this  way,  “the 
king  should  resume  his  lawful  tax.”  On  the  other  hand, 
if  it  is  the  husbandman  who  is  in  distress,  or  his  lands  are 
too  poor  to  yield  a surplus,  the  rate  is  lowered  to  twelve  and 
one-half,  ten,  or  eight  and  one-third  per  cent. , according  to 
circumstances;  or  may  even  be  remitted  altogether. 

Contrasted  with  this,  the  British  rate  of  taxation  is  from 
one  quarter  more  to  double  the  amount  regularly  demanded 
by  the  ancient  Hindu  kings.  The  average  British  tax  is 
about  the  same  as  that  demanded  by  the  ancient  Hindu 
kings  as  an  extreme  tax,  warranted  only  by  the  necessity  of 
“taking  from  the  farmer  to  defend  the  farmer.”  But  a tax 
not  at  all  uncommon  under  British  rule  is  even  more  than 
this,  and  sometimes  reaches  quite  a half  of  the  gross  produce 
of  any  one  field. 

But  this  half,  as  contrasted  with  the  old  sixth,  is  not  a 
British  invention ; and  from  the  historical  point  of  view,  to 
make  a special  point  against  the  British  on  this  score,  as  if 
they  had  invented  some  new  method  of  torture,  is  quite  un- 
warranted. One  third  or  one  half  the  produce  is  too  high 
a tax  (or  rent,  as  it  is  sometimes  facetiously  called),  but  it 
is  not  a tax  invented  by  the  British.  The  Cholas  of  South 
India  took  half  the  produce  as  a regular  tax,  and  the  ideal 
formal  tax  of  the  Mahrattas  was  forty  per  cent,  of  the  gross 
produce.  Moreover,  it  must  be  remembered  that  this  latter 


THE  CAUSE  AND  CURE  OF  FAMINE. 


243 


was  merely  the  scheduled  rate,  instituted  by  ^iva.ji,  the  great 
founder  of  the  Mahratta  state,  in  antithesis  to  the  rule  of 
Todar  Mall  (adopted  by  Shah  Jahan),  whereby  (nominalty) 
one-fourth  to  one-half  the  gross  produce  (one-fourth  with 
permanent  settlement)  was  taken  as  tax.  on  the 

other  hand,  adopted  the  arrangement  instituted  by  Dadaji, 
whereby  the  farmer  gave  the  government  two-fifths  of  the 
produce  (in  1637).  But  under  ^ivaji’s  successors,  “the 
revenues  were  farmed  (as  they  were  not  to  be,  according  to 
(fivaji’s  rule),  many  of  the  raiyats  fled  from  their  villages, 
and  speedy  ruin  threatened  the  territory.”1  According  to 
Lyall,2  the  Mahrattas  “rackrented  the  land  scientifically,” 
whenever  they  settled  down  upon  it ; though,  as  a matter  of 
fact,  they  were  mainly  occupied  with  pillaging  and  devastat- 
ing the  country. 

Thus  we  see  that  the  good  old  Hindu  kings,  who  took  only 
one-sixth  of  the  crop,  came  between  two  sets  of  native  Hindu 
kings  who  were  not  so  virtuous.  Before  them  were  the  kings 
who  held  the  farmers  to  be  the  “food  of  the  nobility”  and 
good  only  to  be  robbed  at  pleasure ; 3 while  after  them  came 
the  “plundering  robbers”  of  the  South,  as  Judge  Burnell 
called  the  Vijayanagara  Telugu  kings,  and  the  Mahrattas  of 
the  Deccan.  Moreover,  under  native  kings  sixty  per  cent,  of 
the  actual  yield  has  been  taken  from  the  threshing  floor  even 
in  the  past  century.1 

1 Grant  Duff,  op.  cit.,  i.  pp.  125,  232,  319. 

2 Lyall,  op.  cit.,  p.  158.  According  to  Hunter,  Gazetteer,  India,  p.  440,  the 
native  tax  is  sometimes  one-half  and  sometimes  three-fifths  of  the  produce. 
In  Orissa,  the  native  Raj  took  sixty  per  cent.,  and  Hunter  himself  saw  this 
taken  in  other  cases. 

8 Even  as  late  as  the  epic,  viii.  38,  17,  there  is  a casual  allusion  to  “ fat 
peasant  villages,  good  for  a king  to  devour,”  which  speaks  for  itself. 

4 Compare  Hunter,  loc.  cit.,  and  Robert  Knight’s  Land  Revenue  of  India. 
These  statements  are  not  theoretical,  but  are  based  on  what  has  really  oc- 
curred. It  can  scarcely  be  doubted  that  the  mild  demands  of  the  old  Hindu 
kings  were  made  with  the  knowledge  that  the  middleman,  who  collected  the 
revenue,  took  part  for  himself.  One  would  think  from  the  current  praise  of 
these  kings  that  they  collected  direct  from  the  farmer.  But  in  fact  they  col- 
lected through  “ centurions,”  “ thousandmen,”  etc.,  the  numbers  representing 
villages  under  an  officer,  as  may  be  seen  in  their  laws. 


244 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


Nay,  it  is  by  no  means  so  certain  that  even  the  older 
Hindu  kings  did  not  at  one  time  look  on  a rent  of  fifty  per 
cent,  as  equitable.  In  view  of  the  fact  that  there  is  no  such 
legal  provision,  I should  not  insist  on  this.  But  as  an  inter- 
esting bit  of  antiquities  it  is  at  least  worth  mentioning  that 
the  payment  of  half  a man’s  crop  as  rent  was  actually  recog- 
nized in  ancient  times;  though  the  practice  is,  as  it  were, 
fossilized  in  a phrase.  This  is  the  expression  “halfer,”  or 
“half-plougher,"’  well  known  to  students  of  legal  literature, 
and  implying  a man  who  was  expected  to  pay  half  of  his 
crop  for  the  use  of  the  field  it  grew  on.  It  cannot  be  said 
that  such  a man  was  a mere  servant,  for  the  native  commen- 
tator is  careful  to  point  out  not  only  that  the  “ halfer  ” might 
not  be  a servant,  but  that  the  half-produce  of  this  term  cov- 
ered cases  where  the  man  lived  either  on  private  property  or 
on  a field  belonging  to  the  king,  in  which  case  he  paid  as 
rent  to  the  government  just  fifty  per  cent,  of  his  produce.1 

But  not  to  dwell  too  long  on  a doubtful  past,  besides  the 
heavy  taxes  of  the  Chola  in  the  South  and  the  Mahratta  in 
Central  India,  there  were  the  Moghuls.  They  held  North 
India,  and  their  grasp  was  tight.  There  was  only  one  of 
them  who  was  not  a tyrannical  oppressor.  Nevertheless, 
when  the  accuser  of  England  wishes  to  demonstrate  the 
peculiar  enormity  of  British  misrule,  he  utilizes  the  eternal 
Akbar  (who,  by  the  way,  was  half-christianized),  to  mark  the 
contrast  between  ill  and  good.  Thus  Akbar,  says  Mr.  Dutt,2 
took  seventy-seven  million  rupees  where  the  British  take  one 

1 The  rent  of  the  “ halfer  ” probably  represented  the  ratio  paid  before  the 
period  of  the  formulated  law  which  we  now  possess.  In  the  extant  law-books, 
the  term  is  usually  applied  to  a servant,  a fact  that  may  show  the  condition  to 
which  a “ halfer  ” was  inevitably  reduced.  The  half-produce  rent  of  such  a 
man,  when  he  was  a servant,  might,  though  not  necessarily,  be  offset  by  his 
rations.  But  the  commentators,  as  already  mentioned,  admit  that  he  may  not 
be  a servant  at  all.  The  facts  that  this  rent  is  illegally  high,  and  that  in  legal 
literature  the  name  has  become  almost  synonymous  with  serf,  seem  to  point 
to  older  conditions  intervening  between  the  sixteen  and  two-thirds  per  cent, 
tax  of  the  law-books  and  the  unlimited  rapacity  of  the  kings  who,  in  the 
earlier  holy  books,  are  told  that  farmers  are  only  fit  to  devour. 

2 Civilization  in  India,  by  Romesh  C.  Dutt,  p.  121. 


THE  CAUSE  AND  CURE  OF  FAMINE. 


245 


hundred  and  twenty-four  million  rupees.  On  the  other 
hand,  Akbar  was  the  only  lenient  Moghul,1  and  it  is  doubt- 
ful whether  even  the  laudator  temporis  acti,  unless  himself  a 
Mohammedan  or  a Mahratta,  would  be  willing  to  exchange 
the  rule  of  the  British  for  that  of  his  predecessors,  either 
Moghul  or  Mahratta.  But  besides  this,  all  estimates  of 
revenue  in  Akbar’s  time  depend  upon  uncertain  money- 
values,  the  relation  between  the  tankah  ( dam  or  double-tfam) 
and  the  modern  rupee  and  pound;  not  to  speak  of  the  differ- 
ence in  the  purchasing  power  of  silver  and  value  of  land 
three  centuries  ago.  That  these  factors  make  the  ratio  in 
effect  quite  different  to  what  it  is  in  appearance,  may 
indeed  be  offset  by  the  statement  that  Akbar’s  tax  was 
not  so  rigorously  exacted.  But  at  best  this  statement  is 
based  on  a presumption,2  whereas  it  is  known  that,  of 
all  the  Moghuls,  Akbar  was  the  most  considerate  of  his 
subjects,  and  that  under  his  successors  the  Hindus  were 
simply  pillaged.  When  Mr.  Dutt  says  that  Akbar’s  tax 
was  “meant  to  be  an  ideal  demand  and  could  never  have 
been  strictly  enforced  from  year  to  year,”  and  so  leaves  the 
matter,  we  can  say  only  that  Mr.  Dutt’s  zeal  makes  him  an 
unreliable  witness.  The  single  fact  (in  his  economic  state- 
ment) that  he  here  avoids  all  reference  to  the  farmers  of  the 
Moghul’s  revenue  disposes  of  Mr.  Dutt’s  claim.  Akbar  got 
one-third;  but  between  him  and  the  cultivator  stood  the 
agent.  How  much  did  he  take  from  the  raiyat  before  he 
passed  on  the  third  to  Akbar?  Can  any  one  suppose  that 
the  Zamindar  who  farmed  the  revenues,  and  became  a prince 
in  power,  built  up  that  power  on  a salary  ? It  is  quite  safe 
to  say  that,  when  the  Zamindar  passed  over  a third  to 
Akbar,  another  third  went  into  his  own  purse.  Under 
Akbar,  as  under  all  native  rulers,  “ Landholders  and  revenue 

1 The  land-revenue  exacted  by  Akbar  was  more  than  doubled  under 
Aurangzeb  (nineteen  million  pounds  raised  to  forty-three  and  a half  millions). 
Hunter,  The  Indian  Empire,  p.  356. 

4 A fact,  however,  not  mentioned  by  Mr.  Dutt  is,  that,  besides  the  revenue, 
the  cultivator  under  Moghul  rule  paid  not  less  than  forty  assessments  of  a 
personal  character,  on  trees,  cattle,  poll,  marriage,  etc.  Hunter,  India,  p.462. 


246 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


officers,”  to  cite  Hunter  again,  “had  each  their  own  set  of 
myrmidons,  who  plundered  the  country  in  their  name.” 
According  to  the  same  authority,  Akhar’s  tax  amounted  to 
about  three  times  the  British  tax.1 

But  I must  say  a word  more  in  regard  to  this  native 
landlord  known  as  Zamindar,  about  whom,  for  he  is  still  the 
landlord  owner  in  Bengal,  the  native  reformer  is  wont  to 
publish  the  most  extraordinary  statements,  both  historical 
and  economic;  for  he  not  only  holds  him  up  as  a model 
landlord,  but  as  an  original  institution.  One  naturally  sym- 
pathizes with  the  under  dog,  but  it  is  a chill  to  this  emotion 
to  find  it  has  been  given  on  false  pretences,  and  the  discovery 
of  one  or  two  misrepresentations,  even  if  not  intended,  is 
liable  to  breed  a doubt  of  all  statements  not  verified.  In 
this  regard  the  Hindu  reformer,  whether  he  speak  from 
the  platform  of  his  Congress,  or  through  the  medium  of 
a book,  is  peculiarly  liable  to  shock  intelligent  sympathy, 
because  of  the  national  lack  of  historical  instinct.  India 
has  always  cultivated  a kind  of  tropical  history,  but  it  is 
not  the  same  species  with  that  recognized  as  history  in 
the  Occident.  In  ancient  days  it  consisted  of  extravagant 
stories  about  the  vanished  felicity  which  men  enjoyed 
under  the  rule  of  still  more  ancient  kings,  and  this 
conception  of  history  still  obtains,  though  modified  by  the 
influence  of  English  education.  But  the  modification  has 
been  far  from  altering  the  national  inability  to  take  a critical 
attitude  as  regards  the  facts  of  history.  Thus,  of  the  many 
Hindus  who  cite  history  to  show  how  lenient  were  the 
ancient  kings,  not  one,  so  far  as  I know,  has  ever  called 
attention  to  those  kings  whose  rule  was  to  devour  their 
people.  In  the  same  way,  the  native  historians  are  unwearied 
in  stating  that  “according  to  Megasthenes  ” the  Hindu  of 
300  B.  c.  never  worried  the  farmers  in  war-time,  and  that, 
according  to  the  same  authority,  the  Hindu  had  no  famines; 
but  they  either  are  ignorant  of  or  ignore  the  fact  that, 
according  to  their  own  traditions  of  the  same  age,  the 
1 Hunter,  The  Indian  Empire,  pp.  351,  352. 


THE  CAUSE  AND  CURE  OF  FAMINE. 


247 


Hindus  are  especially  told  by  their  priestly  authorities  to 
devastate  the  land  and  ruin  the  crops  of  their  enemies ; that 
they  are  enjoined  not  to  spare  the  land  at  a time  of  famine  ; 
and  that,  in  regard  to  the  other  point,  their  own  literature 
shows  that  they  always  had  famines.  Megasthenes’  author- 
ity also  is  not  always  credible.  His  countrymen  said 
that  he  saw  little  of  India,  and  his  own  testimony  shows 
that  in  many  instances  his  account  does  not  reflect  actual 
conditions  under  Brahmanic  rules.  Thus  he  tells  us  that 
there  were  no  money-lenders  in  India,  and  that  the  Hindus 
did  not  even  know  what  interest  on  a loan  meant,  — a state- 
ment which  must  shock  even  a Hindu  historian,  since  it  was 
made  after  the  legal  rate  of  interest  in  India  was  fixed  at 
sixty  per  cent,  per  annum,  and  centuries  after  the  figure  of 
the  usurer  was  familiar  to  the  Hindus.1  Or  shall  we  say 
that  the  Greek  portrays  only  Buddhistic  conditions,  too 
ideal  for  Brahmanized  kings  to  maintain? 

The  unhistorical  attitude  which  characterizes  the  reformer 
appears  again  when,  to  laud  the  ancient  regime , he  tells  us 
that  the  Zamindar  is  the  hereditary  owner  of  the  land  and 
always  has  been  “ from  remotest  antiquity,  ” besides  being  an 
exemplary  landlord.  The  fact  is  that  this  Zamindar  was 
originally  the  publican  or  revenue-collector  for  the  Moghul 
emperor,  from  whom  he  frequently  freed  himself  and  became 
landlord  by  right  of  might.  All  that  can  be  said  is  that  he 
was  sometimes  a Hindu.  But  generally  he  was  an  alien 
(Mohammedan)  officer.  When  the  British  took  possession, 
they  ignored  the  peasantry  and  established  this  Zamindar,  a 
mere  factor,  as  landlord-owner.  “ Any  one,  ” says  Lyall,  “ who 
had  money  or  credit  might  buy  at  the  imperial  treasury  a 
Firman  authorizing  him  to  collect  the  revenues  of  some 

1 If  Megasthenes  is  to  be  cited,  he  should  be  cited  entire,  and  we  should  be 
informed  that,  according  to  him,  that  which  the  native  reformer  to-day  insists 
should  he  called  a tax  and  made  below  one-fourth  of  the  produce,  was  not  a tax 
but  a rent  and  above  a fourth  (a  fourth,  with  extra  cesses),  — points  which,  so 
far  as  I have  observed,  are  passed  over  in  silence  by  Mr.  Dutt  and  others,  who 
are  perhaps  a little  inclined  to  draw  on  Megasthenes  only  for  what  pleases 
them. 


248 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


refractory  district  ” (op.  cit.  p.  124).  In  the  course  of  half 
a century,  as  it  was  known  to  all  that  this  exemplary  land- 
lord rackrented  his  peasantry,  the  British  themselves  miti- 
gated the  woes  due  to  his  inhumanity  as  well  as  they  could 
(having  surrendered  landlord-rights  to  the  Zamindar),  by 
enacting  that  the  sum  paid  to  the  Crown  by  the  Zamindar 
should  be  reduced,  with  the  understanding  that  the  latter 
should  demand  less  of  his  peasantry.1 

The  Zamindar,  of  course,  saw  to  it  that  the  first  part  of 
this  new  arrangement  was  carried  out.  He  gave  from  then 
on  only  five  to  six  per  cent,  of  the  value  of  the  gross  produce 
to  the  government;  while  he  himself  was  and  still  is  supposed 
to  take  only  twenty  per  cent,  of  the  gross  produce  from  each 
cultivator,  as  rent. 

Now,  one-fifth  of  the  gross  produce  is  regarded  as  an  ideal 
payment  for  the  cultivator,  and  since  it  can  easily  he  shown 
that-  where  the  British  government  levies  its  own  tax  it  often 
takes  one-third  of  the  gross  produce,  the  reformer  would  like 
to  see  just  such  a permanent  settlement  introduced  all  over 
India,  a Hindu  landlord  by  preference,  but  failing  that,  an 
unalterable  rate  representing  one-fifth  the  produce. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  may  truly  he  said  that  the  Zamin- 
dar arrangement  is  probably  the  most  unjust,  as  it  cer- 
tainly is  the  stupidest,  in  India.  For  not  only  are  the 
cultivators  deprived  of  their  rights  in  the  soil,  but  they  are 
exposed  to  unlimited  rackrenting  at  the  hands  of  unscrupu- 
lous Zamindars,  who  can  demand  whatever  they  choose  of 
the  peasantry.  The  history  of  the  native’s  dealings  with 
his  poorer  brother  does  not  favor  the  idea  that  the  Zamindar, 
when  at  liberty  to  do  as  he  pleases  with  his  hinds,  will  be  a 
shining  light  of  benevolence.  Stupid,  too,  is  this  arrange- 
ment, for  Bengal  is  the  Eden  of  India,  the  richest  and  most 
flourishing  province,  the  best  able  to  pay  the  government 
for  its  share  in  the  increase  of  value  arising  from  improve- 

1 The  government  was  placed  in  the  hands  of  Commissioners  (with  a Gov- 
ernor-General) in  1784,  while  the  British  Crown  has  been  in  possession  of  India 
only  since  1858. 


THE  CAUSE  AND  CURE  OF  FAMINE. 


249 


ments.  But  of  all  this  increase  never  a penny  comes  to  the 
government,  and  when  taxes  are  increased  it  is  the  poor 
provinces  must  pay  them. 

Nominally,  however,  Bengal  is  the  peasant’s  paradise.  He 
has  a benevolent  native  landlord  and  pays  only  one-fifth  of 
his  crop  as  his  rent.  He  ought  never  to  be  troubled  with 
famine  in  such  circumstances,  but  this  is  only  in  theory. 

Without  going  into  details  of  arrangements,  it  suffices  to 
say  that  in  the  Northwest  and  Punjab  Provinces  the  culti- 
vator pays  about  the  same  or  a little  more  than  he  is  sup- 
posed to  in  Bengal,1  while  in  the  Central  Provinces  and  in 
South  India  he  pays  from  one -fifth  to  one -third  of  his  gross 
produce,  sometimes  as  much  as  one-half  the  net  reckoned  as 
one-third  the  gross  produce,  but  under  such  circumstances 
as,  it  is  claimed,  make  the  sum  total  (extra  cesses,  etc.) 
about  equivalent  to  fifty  per  cent,  of  the  gross  produce. 

The  farmer  then  (and  this  is  the  great  example  of  the 
reformer)  who  in  Bombay  pays  direct  to  the  state,  pays  as 
a minimum  what  is  paid  as  a maximum  in  Bengal  to  the 
native  landlord.  The  difference  is  further  accentuated  by 
the  fact  that  in  Bengal  the  landlord  at  any  rate,  and  it  is 
supposed  his  tenant  also,  has  always  the  same  tax  or  rent  to 
pay,  while  even  in  less  favored  districts  the  rate  is  changed 
only  once  in  a generation  (thirty  years) ; whereas  in  the  Cen- 
tral Provinces  and  in  the  Madras  Province  the  assessments 
are  frequently  changed  so  suddenly  that  the  ratio  is  made 
one  hundred  per  cent,  higher  in  a single  re-assessment. 
Under  these  conditions  a nominal  tax  of  twelve  to  twenty 
per  cent.,  such  as  is  found  in  the  Madras  Province,  may  and 

1 In  thus  estimating  the  cultivator’s  rent,  I accept  for  argument’s  sake  the 
amount  stated  to  be  the  rent  (or  tax,  according  to  locality  and  interpretation 
of  tlie  Crown’s  position)  not  by  British  officials,  but  by  the  reformers,  whose 
argument  for  reform  is  based  on  their  own  estimates.  Officially,  the  cultiva- 
tor’s tax  in  this  and  other  cases  cited  is  much  less  than  here  given,  except  in 
Bengal  itself,  where  rackrenting  is  still  supposed  to  exist.  There  is  no  reason 
to  think  that  either  side  is  right  in  details.  The  government  minimizes  its 
estimates,  and  the  reformer’s  figures  favor  his  plea.  But  in  general  it  may  be 
6aid  that  in  North  India  the  revenue  is  reasonable,  if  not  so  elsewhere. 


250 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


undoubtedly  is  iu  the  end  a real  tax  of  fully  one-third.  As 
an  instance  of  oppressive  taxation  may  be  cited  from  Mr. 
Dutt’s  last  book  the  implication  conveyed  in  a speech  made 
a year  ago  by  the  Maharaja  of  Darbhanga,  who  in  the  Coun- 
cil of  the  Viceroy  pleaded  with  the  government  “not  to 
draw  from  landholders  more  than  sixty  per  cent,  of  the  vil- 
lage income.” 

But  there  is  this  to  be  added  in  regard  to  the  general  out- 
cry against  British  taxation  in  India.  The  reformer  calls  for 
twenty  per  cent.,  but  the  peasant  enjoying  that  tax  already 
is  as  loud  in  his  protests  as  is  the  peasant  oppressed  with  a 
rate  of  one-third  instead  of  one-fifth.  One  needs  only  go 
among  the  Punjab  peasantry  to  learn  this.  The  root  of  dis- 
content is  not  with  the  tax  so  much  as  it  is  with  the  way  in 
which  it  is  collected.  And  again : the  charge  is  made  that 
the  British  tax  in  general  is  excessive,  whereas  those  who 
make  it  demonstrate,  as  soon  as  they  exhibit  their  statistics, 
that  even  at  their  own  interpretation  of  these  statistics  (I 
mean  that,  refusing  to  take  the  official  statistics  at  their 
face  value,  they  interpret  them  as  really  signifjung  to  the 
farmer  something  quite  different),  the  British  government 
has  already  partly  complied  with  the  demands  of  the  re- 
formers, and  the  tax  which  they  ask  for  is  the  tax  actually 
in  force  over  a great  part  of  India.  Thus  Mr.  Dutt  himself 
says  that  the  state  of  affairs  in  Bengal  is  ideal;  that  there  is 
no  fault  to  be  found  with  the  tax  as  collected  in  the  Prov- 
ince of  Oudh  and  the  Northwest;  and  that  even  the  Pun- 
jab now  presents  conditions  scarcely  open  to  criticism.  But 
under  these  ideal  conditions  what  has  been  the  last  famine, 
and  what  would  it  not  have  been  had  the  government  not 
had  relief-works  and  canals? 

There  is  then,  and  thus  far  attention  has  been  called  per- 
haps too  exclusively  to  this  point  (but  justice  should  be  done 
even  to  the  upper  dog),  no  cause  of  grave  complaint  against 
Great  Britain  for  the  manner  in  which,  in  general,  the  govern- 
ment has  treated  its  Hindu  subjects.  In  sum,  in  what  has 
been  said  already,  two  misapprehensions  have  been  cleared 


THE  CAUSE  AND  CURE  OF  FAMINE. 


251 


up.  It  is  not  true  that  famine  was  unknown  in  India  before 
the  British  entered  it.  It  is  not  true  that  the  British  have 
taxed  their  subjects  more  heavily  than  have  modem  native 
rulers  or  the  Moghuls.  It  is  even  possible  that  they  have  not 
taxed  more  heavily  than  did  the  “ sixth-taker  ” of  antiquity. 

Now,  however,  let  us  turn  to  the  other  side.  We  will 
begin  with  the  conditions  in  the  Central  Provinces  and  in 
South  India.  It  is  here  that  the  tax  is  heaviest  and  misery 
like  a plague  has  here  become  endemic. 

The  first  thing  that  strikes  the  attention  is  that  this  woe 
has  fastened  itself  upon  just  that  part  of  the  country  to 
which  the  officials  point  with  the  greatest  pride ; where  there 
has  been  the  most  exhaustive  examination  of  conditions; 
where  the  sagacious  (and  I will  add  conscientious)  expert 
has  made  his  most  careful  analysis  and  estimated  most  scien- 
tifically just  how  much  every  field  ought  to  produce  and 
ought  to  be  enriched  by  a rise  in  prices  and  by  local  im- 
provements ; on  the  basis  of  which  calculations  is  fixed  the 
revenue  to  be  derived  from  the  field.  In  a word,  the  British 
tax  is  meant  to  be  a carefully  estimated  fair  quota  of  the 
crop. 

Herewith  we  are,  as  it  were,  illuminated  at  the  outset 
with  the  light  of  the  knowledge  that  the  red-tape  of  scien- 
tific guesswork  is  the  efficient  cause  of  the  trouble.  Subtract 
the  actual  average  yield  from  the  expert’s  prognostication, 
and  the  remainder  approximates  to  the  total  of  the  farmer’s 
misery. 

This  misery  is  appreciated  by  the  British,  and  is  not  passed 
unfeelingly,  as  testify  the  large  sums  involved  in  the  annual 
remittance  of  taxes.  But  remittance  is  not  made  systemati- 
cally nor  in  accordance  with  any  fixed  principle.  For  the 
taxes  (or  in  general  the  sums  the  farmer  has  to  pay)  are  not 
remitted  often  enough  to  prevent  the  over-burdened  farmer 
from  selling  out  and  giving  up  his  farm,  which,  as  farming 
is  his  only  occupation,  he  surely  would  not  do  unless  forced 
to  it.  During  the  recent  famine,  many  more  farms  have  been 
abandoned  to  the  tax-collector;  but  even  before  the  famine 


252 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


began,  so  terrible  was  the  pressure  that  in  little  more  than  a 
decade  two  million  acres  were  thus  abandoned,  representing 
hundreds  of  thousands  of  small  farmers.  And  the  proof 
that  the  reason  for  their  abandonment  was  over-assessment 
is  that  more  than  half  of  these  acres  failed  to  find  pur- 
chasers and  had  to  be  bought  in  by  the  government.1 

But  before  we  penetrate  deeper  into  the  misery  of  the 
present,  let  us  cast  one  more  glance  back  at  the  past.  The 
peculiarly  simple  and  helpless  Hindu  farmer  was  of  old 
guarded  against  himself  in  three  ways : first,  by  the  custom 
that  prevented  him  from  alienating  his  land;  second,  by 
being  allowed  to  pay  his  rent  in  kind  and  in  proportion  to 
his  crop  (that  is,  if  he  had  no  crop,  he  had  no  tax);  and, 
third,  by  laws  which  put  some  limit  to  usury. 

Now,  as  contrasted  with  this,  under  British  rule,  the  peas- 
ant is  first  allowed  to  alienate  his  land ; second,  he  is  obliged 
to  pay  in  mone}T,  withal  whether  he  has  any  crop  to  sell  or 
not  (in  other  words,  he  is  obliged  to  sell  his  land  to  get 
money  to  pay  his  tax);  and,  third,  until  lately  the  usurer  has 
been  permitted  to  take  any  sum  he  pretends  is  due  him, 
although  it  is  well  known  that  this  particularly  vulpine 
native  is  accustomed  to  falsify"  his  accounts,  which  is  easily 
done  with  ignorant  peasants. 

This  three-stranded  rope  first  entangles  and  then  chokes 
the  peasant.  The  expert  comes,  says  the  farm  must  yield 
enough  to  pay  a tax  of  so  many  rupees  more  than  before. 
The  sullen  peasant  protests,  but  that  is  useless.  Comes 
rain,  a good  harvest,  the  expert  is  not  far  wrong;  yet  a 
little  less  is  got  than  is  expected.  But  somehow,  let  us  say, 
the  peasant  worries  through  the  year,  though  much  scrimped 
and  unable  to  spend  anything  on  fertilizers ; a vital  point,  for 
starved  land  makes  starved  farmers.  Comes  next  a drought. 
All  the  seed-corn  is  parched.  There  is  no  crop.  The  rupees 
are  few,  and  when  the  tax-collector  comes  the  rupees  go. 
Then  comes  another  drought.  Already  starving,  the  peas- 
ant is  visited  by  the  tax-collector,  who  insists  on  having  the 
1 On  these  points,  see  Mr.  Vaughan  Nash,  The  Great  Famine. 


THE  CAUSE  AND  CURE  OF  FAMINE. 


253 


annual  tribute,  perhaps  arrears  as  well.  The  only  alterna- 
tive to  loss  of  the  farm  (for  on  failure  to  pay,  the  farmer 
is  ousted)  is  the  usurer.  So  with  the  government  and  the 
usurer  together  the  peasant  really  has  no  choice.  Thus  it 
happens  that  already  a large  per  cent,  of  farm-land  is  in 
the  hand  of  the  money-lender;  that  is  to  say,  the  most 
unscrupulous  and  worst  element  in  the  state  is  rapidly  be- 
coming the  real  landlord  of  the  country. 

So  much  the  worse  for  England.  But  in  the  mean  time 
what  becomes  of  the  wretched  peasant?  He  would  die,  but 
that  the  same  government  that  has  kicked  him  out  picks  him 
up  and  puts  him  on  relief-works,  where  he  lives  or  dies  as 
may  be. 

Such  are  the  chief  strands  in  the  complicated  cause  of 
every  recent  famine  in  India.  There  are  others  which,  like 
these,  the  reformer  imputes  to  wilful  wrong-doing.  Native 
arts,  they  say,  have  been  destroyed ; the  great  industries  are 
'in  British  hands.  So  they  are,  so  they  will  be,  till  the 
Hindu  becomes  the  equal  of  the  Englishman  in  industrial 
pursuits.  Nor  is  it  a crime  on  England’s  part  that  she 
does  not  subsidize  native  artists.  Then  they  say  that  border- 
wars  are  a costly  and  needless  extravagance ; that  is,  a crime. 
But  the  point  lies  in  determining  whether  they  are  needless. 
If  they  are  not,  are  they  criminal?  For  myself,  I think  they 
are  worse  than  useless,  an  exposure  of  India.  But  is  not  this 
a question  of  policy,  to  be  answered  by  persons  qualified  to 
judge?  Can  it  possibly  be  imputed  as  a crime  that  Great 
Britain  sacrifices  her  own  soldiers  to  maintain  her  prestige  ? 

There  are  charges  made  against  England  besides  these, 
of  economically  criminal  character.  But  most  of  them  are 
incidental  rather  than  perennial.  They  are  of  the  past, 
and  though  they  are  blemishes  there  is  no  use  in  dwelling 
upon  faults  long  since  committed  and  in  part  confessed. 
Yet  not  to  mention  them  would  be  to  place  England  in  a 
false  light  before  the  world.  Such  are  the  exorbitant  de- 
mands made  upon  India  for  the  payment  of  expenses  in  for- 
eign wars.  It  could  be  said  that  India  was  interested  in  the 


254 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


Suez  canal,  but  it  was  flagrant  injustice  to  make  India  pay 
more  than  a million  pounds,  while  England  paid  but  half  a 
million,  for  tlie  expense  of  occupying  Egypt.  This  injustice 
is  frankly  admitted  by  the  British  themselves,  although  it 
has  never  been  rectified.  Another  case  of  the  same  sort  is 
thus  summarized  by  the  Englishman  who  was  Governor- 
General  at  the  time  (of  the  Perak  expedition):  “I  cannot 
conceive  any  one  doubting  that  India  has  been  hardly 
treated.  The  law  was  broken,  and  the  charge  so  made 
upon  India  has  never  been  repaid.”  Mr.  Dutt,  who  cites 
these  cases,  is  quite  right  in  bringing  them  up  against  Eng- 
land. Among  many  charges  of  more  doubtful  nature,  these 
stand  confessed. 

More  dubious  is  the  charge  that  the  Famine  Relief  Fund 
was  misappropriated.  Certainly,  the  million  and  a half 
annual  reserve  was  not  forthcoming  when  the  last  famine 
came,  as  India,  perhaps,  had  a right  to  expect.  But  there 
was  a large  margin  of  discretion  left  to  those  who  had  the 
spending  of  the  moneys  raised  by  extra  taxation,  and  I can- 
not admit  that  there  was  in  this  case  any  criminal  misappro- 
priation of  a trust  fund,  as  is  maintained  by  the  Hindus 
themselves.  The  fact  is,  doubtless,  that  the  money  was 
spent  on  wars  and  other  improvements,  unnecessary  railways, 
and  similar  public  works ; but  these  were  all  provided  for  by 
the  terms  of  the  agreement,  and  there  was  no  fund  really  set 
aside  for  famine  expenses,  only  a fund  from  a possible  sur- 
plus, which,  owing  to  the  fact  that  the  money  was  spent  on 
other  things,  for  which  allowance  had  been  made,  never 
actually  existed. 

In  the  same  way,  it  has  been  charged  that  railways  have 
been  built  for  speculation  more  than  for  actual  need  or  for 
famine  relief.  There  is,  perhaps,  some  truth  in  the  charge 
that  what  Mr.  Hyndman  harshly  calls  the  “corrupt,  unscru- 
pulous, and  jobbing”  Public  Works  Department  has  not 
been  free  from  connivance  with  reckless  speculators.  Such 
speculation  or  investment,  whichever  it  be,  has  cost  India 
millions  of  wasted  pounds. 


THE  CAUSE  AND  CURE  OF  FAMINE. 


255 


But  these  ills  are  ephemeral.  More  lasting  is  the  ill  that 
arises  from  the  home  charges  and  the  drain  from  India  in  pay- 
ing pensions.  Here,  again,  however,  we  pass  outside  of  the 
category  of  “wrongs,”  although  the  native  reformer  appears 
to  make  no  distinction  between  one  and  another  of  these  ills. 
Money  had  to  be  borrowed  to  improve  the  country  and  now 
interest  must  be  paid  on  the  loans;  while  the  simple  fact  as 
regards  pensions  is  that  they  are  merely  part  of  the  salaries. 
In  other  words,  no  man  devoid  of  common-sense  ought  to  be 
made  an  Indian  official,  and  no  man  with  common-sense  would 
live  twenty  years  in  India  except  with  the  understanding  that, 
after  he  had  given  the  cream  of  his  life  to  India,  he  should  at 
least  be  assured  of  the  skim-milk  on  his  return  home.  The 
alternative  is  to  cubbonize  India,  to  appoint  only  natives  as 
officials.  But  this  is  a change  to  be  made  with  caution  and 
it  is  already  making.  Nor  is  it  a moral  wrong  to  keep  the 
most  important  posts  in  British  hands.  So  with  the  cost 
of  the  army.  No  doubt  India  pays  heavily  for  the  rule 
that  keeps  the  Sikh  from  the  Babu’s  throat  and  the 
Mahratta  from  the  towns  he  was  wont  to  devastate  in 
Rajputana.  But  she  would  pay  still  more  heavily  were 
that  rule  removed. 

Nevertheless,  although  the  British  are  not  criminally  re- 
sponsible for  the  extra  expense  of  home  charges,  any  more 
than  they  are  criminal  in  having  in  India  a soil  that  through 
ages  of  misuse  has  deteriorated,  deserts  that  ages  of  defores- 
tation have  created,  and  over-population  due  partly  to  the 
thriftless  character  of  the  peasant  and  partly  to  the  lack  of 
wars  in  the  last  few  generations, 1 — they  have  to  face  the  con- 
ditions thus  created  and  to  recognize  that  if  the  home  charges 
are  not  immoral,  they  yet  make  a terrible  addition  to  the  bur- 
den borne  by  India.  No  one  can  demand  of  the  British  that 

1 Two  centuries  ago  there  was  too  much  land  for  the  inhabitants  in  Bengal. 
To-day  there  is  not  enough,  because  the  population  has  increased  six-fold  ow- 
ing to  the  Pax  Britannica.  In  this  case,  we  may  say  that  Great  Britain  is 
responsible,  but  surely  not  criminal,  in  having  created  an  over-population. 
Plague  and  famine  have  their  terrible  utility  — for  those  who  survive. 


256 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


they  should  settle  in  India,  like  the  Moghul;  but  no  one  can 
deny  that  the  Moghul  in  spending  in  India  what  he  stole 
from  India  did  much  to  lessen  the  weight  of  his  crimes. 

Therefore,  it  becomes  a moral  question  with  England 
whether  there  is  any  use  in  comparing  her  tax  with  that  of  the 
Moghul  or  that  of  the  Mahratta,  and  assuming  that  her  tax  is 
just  because  it  is  relatively  low.  Much  more  has  she  to  see 
to  it  that  extensive  irrigation  shall  be  strengthened  by  laws 
against  self -selling  on  the  part  of  the  peasant ; and,  above  all, 
that  irregular  taxation  shall  meet  the  exigencies  of  an  irreg- 
ular climate.  Irregular  taxation  may  sound  absurd,  but  it 
is  the  old  rule,  the  only  rule  the  peasant  understands,  and 
the  only  natural  rule  to  follow  in  a country  where  crops 
vary  by  ninety-nine  per  cent.  A fair  proportion,  even  as 
much  as  twenty-five  per  cent.,  of  the  crop,  when  there  is  a 
crop,  is  just;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  the  same  rule  when 
there  is  no  crop.  Even  Dadaji,  because  the  people  were 
distressed,  laid  no  tax  for  years  — and  shall  England  be  less 
merciful? 

What  the  Englishman  owes  to  India  is,  in  short,  what  he 
owes  to  himself,  not  only  as  the  mighty  lord  of  India,  but  as 
a self-respecting  Christian.  There  is  no  use  in  asserting 
that  a tax  is  humane  and  that  subjects  have  nothing  to  com- 
plain of,  when  year  by  year  they  are  forced  out  of  their  farms 
and  starve  perennially.  Neither  Hunter’s  complacency, 
Chesney’s  arrogance,  nor  the  fair  figures  of  the  Statesman’s 
Year-book,  can  alter  the  fact  that  something  is  rotten  in  the 
state  of  India. 

So  far  all  impartial  judges  must  agree.  But  let  us  not 
exaggerate.  Threefold  though  the  source  of  famine  be,  the 
three  efficient  causes,  — lack  of  water  where  wells  should  be, 
lack  of  restraint  where  restraint  should  be,  lack  of  means  to 
improve  the  land,  because  the  usurer  devours  the  cultivator, 
— all  these  three  revert  to  one,  over-pressure.  Unselfish  as 
are  the  servants,  the  master  demands  wealth,  and  it  must  be 
forthcoming.  Nevertheless,  this  corporate  master  not  only 
has  large  desires,  as  he  has  great  needs  and  selfishness,  but 


THE  CAUSE  AND  CURE  OF  FAMINE. 


257 


he  has  also  a conscience,  the  existence  of  which  has  been 
proved  on  many  occasions.  Furthermore,  he  has  no  little 
ignorance  of  how  his  desires  are  obtained.  If  it  could  be 
effected  without  serious  loss,  there  is  no  doubt  that,  with 
the  realization  of  what  his  demands  entail,  he  would  no 
longer  exact  bricks  without  straw.  But  from  the  Nerbudda 
to  the  Godavari,  India  to-day  is  a sweat-shop,  where  lives  are 
sacrificed  and  men  drag  out  miserable  days,  not  simply  be- 
cause God  has  sent  a famine,  but  because  peasants  are  igno- 
rant, because  wells  are  few  and  usurers  are  many,  and  because 
the  master,  also  ignorant  of  what  his  need  produces,  always 
needs  more  money. 

Still,  although  one  rarely  sees  any  admission  of  the  fact  in 
the  diatribes  against  English  policy,  attempts  have  already 
been  made  to  rectify  some  of  these  evils.  There  is  even  a 
law  against  the  ancient  right  of  the  usurer,  and  this  law 
confines  somewhat  the  inherited  power  of  this  long-legalized 
robber;  but  it  is  not  a sufficient  guard,  for  the  usurer  con- 
tinues to  fatten  and  the  peasant  to  starve.  Irrigation  has 
done  wonders  in  the  North,  and  the  British  may  well  be 
proud  of  their  achievements  in  the  Punjab;  but  what  has 
been  done  in  the  Central  Provinces,  and  why  not  ? For  what 
little  has  been  done  in  the  way  of  well-making,  when  set 
against  what  might  have  been  done  to  save  the  peasants 
there,  weighs  very  light  on  Justice’s  waiting  scale. 

So  much  I grant,  and  I will  add  this,  that  as  matters  stand 
now,  it  is  merely  a question  whether  Lord  Salisbury’s  answer 
to  a proposed  reduction  of  taxation,  We  cannot  afford  it,  is 
to  prevail  over  the  moral  instinct  which  should  reply,  We 
must  afford  it.  England  is  master  and  can  take  what  she 
will.  But,  believe  me,  robbery,  whatever  you  hear  to  the 
contrary,  has  not  been  England’s  Indian  policy  in  the  past. 
If  it  had  been,  rackrenting  would  not  have  been  stopped  by 
England,  nor  would  there  be  those  easy  taxes,  which  even 
the  native  agitators  praise  as  perfectly  satisfactory,  in  the 
North.  If  she  has  sometimes  made  India  pay  too  much  and 
if  rigorously  regular  in  her  annual  demands,  England,  on  the 

17 


258 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


whole,  has  nevertheless  dealt  moderately  with  her  subjects. 
Of  the  wrongs  scored  against  her  by  Hindus  and  by  her 
own  people  (for  though  I have  cited  the  reformers  as  chiefly 
natives,  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  the}'  are  just  as  apt  to 
he  Englishmen,  not  to  speak  of  those  Americans  who  seem 
never  to  be  quite  so  happy  as  when  they  are  mourning  over 
England),  some  of  these  wrongs  exist  only  in  that  confu- 
sion between  rights  and  privileges  to  which  I have  already 
alluded;  while  many  are  due  rather  to  lack  of  familiarity 
with  Oriental  ways  than  to  oppression.  Do  you  doubt  this  ? 
I will  make  the  statement  still  stronger,  and  it  shall  still  be 
true.  The  British  have  done  much  to  reduce  the  peasant 
to  starvation,  not  only  because  of  lack  of  familiarity  with 
Oriental  ways,  but  because  of  their  sense  of  law  and  justice. 
Let  me  give  you  some  illustrations.  The  British,  then  the 
East  India  Company,  as  I have  already  told  you,  reduced  the 
peasantry  of  Bengal  to  the  state  of  rackrented  subjects  of 
the  Zamindar.  Why  did  they  do  so?  Because,  although 
they  had  the  power  to  take  the  land,  they  did  not  take  it, 
but  looked  about  for  the  natural  and  legitimate  owners  of 
the  vast  estates  of  which  they  found  themselves  suddenly 
possessed.  Now  you  must  remember  that  to  the  British  of 
that  day,  — this  was  in  the  century  before  the  last,  — the 
natural  owner  of  land  was  the  baronial  lord.  And  there  sat 
the  baronial  lord  in  possession,  drawing  his  rents.  He  was 
the  Zamindar.  Was  it  to  the  interest  of  the  British  to  put  all 
the  rents  back  into  the  Zamindar’s  pocket  and  acknowledge, 
what  the  latter  claimed,  that  he  was  the  owner?  Not  at  all. 
It  would  have  been  much  more  profitable  to  have  ousted  the 
Zamindar  and  made  England  landlord.  But  the  British  knew 
nothing  for  a long  time  afterwards  of  estates  in  severalty  and 
joint-villages.  They  gave  up  the  lands,  as  they  thought,  to 
the  rightful  owner,  and  therewith  they  relinquished  their 
hold  on  the  rents  he  drew,  taking  from  him  only  a very 
small  tax,  and  leaving  him  to  draw  a stipulated  rent,  which 
fifty  years  ago  they  fixed  low.  If  the  Zamindar  has  rack- 
rented  his  peasants,  is  that  England’s  crime?  Is  it  not  a 


THE  CAUSE  AND  CURE  OF  FAMINE. 


259 


fair  illustration  of  my  first  statement,  that  wrong  was  done 
through  ignorance? 

And  now  for  the  stronger  statement  that  wrong  has  been 
done  from  a sense  of  justice.  I am  not  trying  to  establish  a 
paradox  or  whitewash  the  devil.  The  British  for  the  first 
time,  at  least  in  centuries,  have  introduced  into  India  and 
maintained  courts  of  justice,  where  suits  are  decided,  as  in 
Europe,  by  the  testimony  offered  and  according  to  what  is 
supposed  to  be  the  law  of  the  land.  Now,  apart  from  those 
cases  where  injustice  has  been  done  merely  because  the 
British  did  not  know  that  the  priestly  codes  are  not  the  law 
of  this  or  that  district,  the  Hindu  usurer,  in  his  cases  against 
the  farmers,  had  the  whole  law  on  his  side.  He  could  come 
into  court  with  his  falsified  accounts  and  his  perjured  wit- 
nesses, and  win  his  case  every  time  against  the  poor  and 
simple  peasant.  Did  the  British  conspire  with  the  usurer  to 
oust  the  peasant?  No.  They  upheld  him  to  their  own  disad- 
vantage (for  the  usurer  is  baleful  to  the  country  and  the 
British  know  it  perfectly  well),  because  he  was  in  his  legal 
rights.  Any  wealthy  man  in  India  can  get  as  many  per- 
jurers as  he  can  afford.  Law-cases  have  been  time  and 
again  decided  legally  but  without  equity,  because  the  British 
have  been  unable  to  make  their  own  legal  machinery  work  in 
that  country. 

As  I said  before,  it  is  not  the  tax,  so  much  as  the  regular- 
ity with  which  the  tax  is  exacted,  that  makes  the  trouble  in 
India.  The  five-acre  farmer  makes  just  enough  to  live  on 
when  he  is  lightly  taxed  and  the  harvest  is  good.  When  the 
harvest  fails,  he  has  nothing  to  live  on.  But  the  British  tax 
is  exacted,  harvest  or  no  harvest.  Here  you  have  another 
illustration  of  the  neglect  of  native  methods  in  favor  of  the 
more  advanced  methods  of  the  Occident.  The  British  as- 
sume as  a matter  of  course  that  the  tax  is  to  be  drawn  regu- 
larly every  year.  It  is  their  home  custom.  But  the  villager 
has  been  accustomed  for  a long  time  to  be  heavily  taxed,  or 
robbed,  once  every  few  years  and  then  to  be  let  alone,  and  he 
likes  that  way ; whereas  he  considers  a regular  tax  not  only 


260 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


a regular  nuisance  but  a great  wrong,  simply  because  it  is 
regular.  He  regards  a tax  anyway  as  a sort  of  whipping 
which  he  has  got  to  take,  and  he  would  much  rather  have 
one  good  beating  and  be  done  with  it,  than  to  have  a man 
come  around  and  give  him  a blow  at  regular  intervals.  Then 
to  return  to  the  usurer,  he  gives  another  illustration  of  the 
British  sense  of  justice.  For  why  is  it  that  the  usurer  has 
all  of  a sudden  got  possession  of  ten  to  twenty  per  cent,  of 
Indian  farm-lands?  How  has  he  grown  wealthy?  Because, 
while  the  old  laws  let  him  exact  tribute  from  the  peasantry, 
this  was  only  another  method  of  the  state’s  getting  its  own 
revenue.  The  fact  is,  the  state  gave  license  to  the  usurer, 
but  when  the  usurer  had  got  the  money  the  state  made  him 
disgorge.  The  Hindu  law  says  expressly  that  when  the  king 
needs  money  he  may  take  it  from  the  middle-class  moneyed 
men ; and  nothing  is  said  about  repayment.  But  the  British 
let  the  usurer  keep  the  money  as  well  as  get  it.  Why?  As 
I have  said  and  I think  now  proved,  because  of  their  sense 
of  law  and  justice.  To  rob  even  the  usurer  is  not  British 
practice. 

You  will,  I think,  admit  that  this  whole  question  as  I have 
presented  it,  and  I have  tried  to  present  it  fairly  from  every 
point  of  view,  is  an  exceedingly  complex  as  well  as  a very 
grave  problem.  It  is  one  that  every  free-and-easy  railer 
against  England  can,  of  course,  answer  off-hand.  He  need 
only  take  the  admissions  I have  made,  ignore  all  other  con- 
siderations, historical,  economic,  legal,  shout  Fie  on  Eng- 
land, and  the  thing  is  done.  But  to  one  who  knows  India  in 
its  past  and  in  its  present,  who  has  seen  it  and  viewed  what 
has  been  done  there,  — and  I will  add,  what  is  to  be  done 
there,  —abuse  is  no  adequate  critique  of  the  situation.  I 
have  said  that  what  the  Englishman  owes  to  India  is  what 
he  owes  to  himself.  But  the  rectification  of  wrongs  involves 
as  much  study  as  it  does  generosity.  There  are  wrongs,  and 
a great  sacrifice  is  needed  to  correct  them.  The  remedy  is 
more  than  heroic,  for  it  is  the  application  of  Christian  prin- 
ciples to  statescraft,  withal  at  a time  when  it  is  especially 


THE  CAUSE  AND  CURE  OF  FAMINE. 


261 


hard  to  make  it.  1 do  not  speak  here  of  righting  the  wrongs 
of  the  past,  but  of  systematically  remitting  the  tax  when 
there  is  a drought,  leaving  the  peasant  enough  to  live  on, 
and  seeing  that  his  livelihood  is  not  taken  from  him  even  by 
law.  This  means,  however,  not  only  a great  reduction  in 
revenue,  but  a slow  bettering  of  the  economic  conditions.  As 
to  the  former,  it  implies  perhaps  the  sacrifice  of  some  impe- 
rial power,  and  certainly  of  some  imperial  rights,  for  the  sake 
of  moral  right.  I may  be  too  sanguine,  but  I think  not;  I 
believe  England  will  yet  make  the  sacrifice.  As  to  the  better- 
ment of  conditions,  I only  wish  that  I could  tell  you  half  of 
what  has  been  done  already.  England’s  officials  in  India 
have  been  striving  for  years  for  the  redemption  of  a land 
long  weighted  with  crime,  poverty,  and  disease;  a land 
divided  against  itself  by  caste  and  sect  and  nationality;  a 
land  of  insolent  aristocrats  and  degraded  peasants,  with  no 
strong  middle  class  between  them.  You  have  no  idea  what 
England  has  accomplished  there.  Her  noble  officers,  English, 
Scotch,  Irish,  as  well  as  the  best  Hindus,  the  toilers  rather 
than  the  talkers,  with  untiring  energy  perform  to  the  full 
and  overflow  the  wearisome  task  committed  to  them.  Not 
only  have  these  servants  of  England  established  a mar- 
vellous machine  for  provincial  government,  which  has  not 
had  its  equal  for  efficiency*  since  Rome  collapsed,  nor  its 
equal  for  honesty  in  any  system  of  holding  subject  prov- 
inces, but,  high  and  low,  they  labor  with  the  devotion  of 
missionaries;  and  if  sometimes  they  curse  their  fate,  for 
it  is  not  an  easy  one,  they  are  indeed,  profane  or  not,  the 
missionaries  of  Christian  civilization.  No  one  who  has  seen 
the  good  works  they  have  accomplished  can  question  their 
zeal  or  their  ability  eventually  to  lead  depressed  India  up 
to  a higher  plane  of  life.  Reflect  for  a moment  on  only  a 
few  facts.  Sixteen  million  people,  formerly  wild-men,  now 
brought  under  the  influence  of  civilization.  What  Raj  save 
the  British  ever  cared  for  them  ? Slaves  made  into  free  men. 
When  you  read  of  the  kind  kings  of  old,  remember  that  the 
slave  population  was  not  included  in  their  kindness.  Estab- 


262 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


lislied  peace  and  its  burden  of  hunger.  In  ancient  times, 
perpetual  wars,  perpetual  robbery.  To-day,  over  all  India,  an 
efficient  rural  police,  unknown  before.  Shall  all  this  count 
as  nothing?  England  has  made  India  as  a whole  more 
prosperous,  more  stable,  more  a nation,  than  the  country 
ever  was  before ; given  even  her  meanest  subjects  equal  jus- 
tice in  a law-court,  — a privilege  the  native  agitators  may  ask 
the  Bi’ahmans  to  look  for  in  the  records  of  their  past  and  they 
will  look  in  vain  — educated  the  lowly  and  made  the  high 
wise  in  their  own  conceit;  taught  the  Babu  his  wrongs  and 
given  him  permission  to  proclaim  them;  lowered  the  taxes 
and  raised  the  depressed  and  the  oppressed.  Never  before 
has  a poor  man  received  sympathy  from  the  ruling  class; 
never  before  in  India  has  a man  grown  rich  with  impunity. 
Let  the  barren  optimist  say  that  England  has  no  mistakes  to 
correct  and  no  wrong  to  right,  and  1 shall  insist  again  that  a 
scientific  forecast  of  what  a farmer’s  field  should  produce, 
with  an  imperial  government  urging  the  expert  to  raise  his 
estimate  and  an  unchained  usurer  around  the  corner,  is  a 
mistake  and  a wrong.  But  when  the  pessimist,  that  unholy 
person,  says  that  the  British  have  oppressed  India  as  has 
no  other  Raj,  and  that  all  is  mistake  and  all  is  wrong  in 
India,  then  I answer  that  he  neither  understands  the  condi- 
tions, historical  or  present,  nor  estimates  fairly  the  ratio  of 
wrong  and  right. 

I make  no  charges  of  intentional  or  malicious  wrongdoing; 
but  I say  that  there  are  two  sorts  of  people  (and  they  will 
talk  to  you  most  on  this  subject)  who,  given  the  right  topic, 
simply  cannot  speak  the  whole  truth.  One  is  a Hindu  talk- 
ing about  India,  and  the  other  is  an  Anglophobe  talking 
about  England.  From  the  latter  you  will  hear  all  Eng- 
land’s sins  detailed,  but  never  a word  of  what  England  has 
done  as  standard-bearer  of  the  highest  civilization.  As  to 
such  a man’s  views  on  India,  the  test  is  easy.  Ask  him 
whom  you  hear  descanting  on  British  wrong-doing  in  India 
how  England  stands  in  other  regards.  After  all,  he  is  a 
guileless,  shortsighted  person ; and  when  you  have  heard  him 


THE  CA  USE  AND  CURE  OF  FAMINE. 


263 


explain  that  England  has  invariably  done  wrong,  in  all  places 
and  at  all  times  and  to  all  men,  then  you  will  know  what 
weight  to  lay  upon  his  one-sided  opinion  in  regard  to  India. 
As  to  the  Hindu,  so  extraordinary  is  his  patriotic  lack  of 
veracity  that  he  not  only  falsifies  history,  of  which,  to  be 
sure,  he  is  usually  ignorant,  but  he  even  misrepresents  the 
most  evident  facts  of  the  present,  not  alone  in  regard  to 
Anglo-Indian  relations,  but  in  regard  to  any  point  in  which 
he  wishes  to  exalt  his  native  land.  A pardonable  weakness, 
but  to  what  absurdity  does  it  not  lead?  One  of  these  vir- 
tuous impostors,  for  example,  has  recently  informed  us  that 
the  position  of  Hindu  women  is  better  than  that  of  American 
women,  though  the  press  is  scarcely  done  ringing  the  shame- 
ful but  verified  charges  against  the  foul  abuses  practised  by 
the  husbands  of  Hindu  children,  the  murderers  of  Hindu 
girls,  the  degraders  of  Hindu  widows.  And  remember,  these 
are  not  the  sporadic  villanies  of  such  wretches  as,  Heaven 
knows,  no  country  is  free  of,  but  they  are  deliberated  usage, 
sanctioned  and  upheld  by  the  very  Hindus  who  to-day 
declaim  against  England.  But  all  these  points  touch  our 
present  topic.  For  what  power  first  put  down  the  practice 
of  burning  widows?  Not  the  Hindu  Raj,  who  invented  it; 
not  the  Moghul,  who  vainly  tried  to  stop  it;  not  the  Babu 
and  the  Mahratta,  who  defended  it;  but  England.  And 
what  power  alone  has  exerted  itself  to  stop  girl-murder 
under  native  Rajas?  England,  again.  And  what  power  is 
even  now  slowly  but  surely  mitigating  the  awful  lot  of  the 
child-wife,  whom  even  the  Moghul  sought  to  save,  and  that 
of  the  child-widow,  whose  blood  and  tears  have  been  the  one 
unfailing  rain  of  India  for  more  than  two  thousand  years? 
God  and  England.  And  these,  my  friends,  are  but  items  of  a 
long  account.  Even  if  you  cast  the  account  in  money  alone, 
you  will  find  that  the  Englishman  has  sinned  less  through 
cruelty  than  through  ignorance  of  the  people’s  ways  and  of 
their  inability  to  fit  themselves  into  even  the  most  equitable 
scheme  fashioned  according  to  Western  ideas.  For  it  is 
false  that  the  British  tax  throughout  India  is  in  itself  iniqui- 


264 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


tous.  Apart  from  a restricted  area  and  exceptional  circum- 
stances, it  not  only  is  a lower  tax  than  the  Hindu  was  wont 
to  pay,  but  it  represents  a fair  percentage  of  the  farmer’s 
income.  But  if  you  cast  the  account  in  other  terms  — and 
are  we  to  look  only  on  the  rupees  ? — what  then  ? I tell 
you,  there  is  no  Raj  in  the  annals  of  Hindu  history  that  has 
done  so  much  for  India  as  has  England ; not  her  old  rulers, 
for  they  ruled  for  the  Aryan  alone,  nor  did  they  ever  have 
placed  before  them  the  complex  problems  of  to-day;  not  the 
Moghul,  for,  with  rare  exceptions,  he  never  “considered  the 
good  of  India  as  his  duty;”  not  the  Mahratta,  for  his  hand 
was  armed  against  every  man  save  a Mahratta.  So  I say  to 
the  optimist:  You  are  mistaken.  The  usurer  is  a wrong. 
To  tax  paupers  is  a wrong.  No  law  is  right,  no  rule  is 
without  fault,  under  which  the  burden  of  any  thrifty  peasant 
is  greater  than  he  can  bear.  But  to  the  pessimist  I say: 
Have  at  England  if  you  will ; only  good  will  come  of  it  if  the 
truth  be  told,  and  truly  she  is  not  impeccable.  But  have  at 
England  as  you  will,  without  knowledge  and  without  regard 
to  truth,  and  you  make  your  pleading  a veiled  lie  and  your 
cause  ridiculous. 

And  now  in  closing  I feel  as  if  I should  offer  excuses  for 
an  address  which  I am  afraid  will  have  neither  satisfied 
those  who  hoped  to  hear  England  defended  nor  pleased  those 
who  like  to  hear  her  abused.  But  it  has  been  impossible  for 
me  to  “ take  sides  ” on  this  question.  It  has  too  many  sides. 
So  I have  spoken  according  to  the  facts  as  I see  them,  good 
and  bad. 


THE  PLAGUE. 


“Prevoyant  que  si  je  survivals  a cette  aventure  j’en  ferais  l’histoire.” 

This  plague  is  the  last  of  a number  of  such  visitations  since 
Christ’s  birth,  the  earliest  of  them,  barring  those  of  166  and 
250  a.d.  and  the  one  that  occurred  in  Egypt  and  Persia  and 
along  the  Mediterranean  litoral  in  the  sixth  century  (for  no 
one  knows  whether  these  passed  through  India  or  not),  being 
the  plague  of  the  thirteenth  century,  and  the  general  pest  fol- 
lowing it  a century  later  (1344-48).  But  even  in  this  case, 
though  the  two  may  have  come  from  the  same  source,  yet 
only  of  the  latter  is  it  known  with  certainty  that  it  passed 
through  India,  having  first  started  in  China.  The  plague 
which  ravaged  London  and  other  parts  of  England  in  1665, 
resulting  not  only  in  countless  deaths,  but  in  important 
social  and  political  modifications,  may  have  been  the  plague 
“which  few  escaped”  in  Bombay,  in  1618.  It  was  in  India 
till  1630.  The  same  plague  reappeared  in  1684  and  1690 
in  Surat,  and  in  Bulsar  in  1691.  In  Bombay  itself  the  plague 
lasted  from  1689  to  1702;  while  in  1720  Marseilles  was  at- 
tacked by  a plague  said  to  have  been  imported  from  Syria 
in  silk-goods,  though  the  opinion  that  the  plague  is  not  con- 
veyed by  merchandise  at  all  is  strengthened  by  the  observa- 
tion that  in  Marseilles  not  a single  porter  of  the  silk  bales 
died  of  the  disease. 

As  plague  is  probably  endemic  in  Egypt,  it  is  doubtful 
whether  its  successive  circlings  there  are  not  links  in  the 
same  chain.  Such  a round  occurred  when  Napoleon  was  in 
Egypt,  and  again  in  1835  in  Alexandria.  But  these  cases  may 
have  something  to  do  with  the  fact  that  outbreaks  occurred 
in  India  almost  immediately  after  each  in  Egypt;  in  1815 


266 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


there  was  plague  in  Kutch  and  Kathiawar,  and  in  1836  in 
Mar  war. 

Since  then  plague  has  broken  out  in  Garhwal  (Gurawal)  in 
1852  and  1876  ; in  Baghdad  and  other  cities  of  Mesopotamia  in 
1876-77;  and  in  Hong  Kong  in  1893-96.  In  Mesopotamia, 
Garhwal,  and  Yunarn  the  disease  is  endemic.  In  Garhwal  it  is 
a local  disease  engendered  by  dirt,  and  is  the  true  maha-mari 
or  Great  Death,  which  is  said  not  to  be  identical  with  the 
bubonic  plague.  Be  that  as  it  may,  the  plague  has  been 
called  the  Great  Death  by  the  natives  here  since  its  first 
appearance.  Only  the  up-country  hotel-keepers,  whose  bunga- 
lows this  year  of  fear  are  nigh  empty  of  guests,  have  euphemis- 
tically changed  the  name,  and  when  one  goes  from  Bombay 
into  the  Mofussil  (country-districts),  one  is  greeted  with  the 
absurd  question,  “ How  is  now  the  little-death?  ” ( echota^mari ). 

Since  1720  plague  had  not  desolated  a Continental  city. 
For  sixty  years  it  had  not  invaded  India,  but  it  is  endemic  to 
the  east  in  China  and  to  the  west  in  Mesopotamia,  it  has 
always  hung  about  the  edges  of  the  country  and  is  supposed 
to  lurk  in  some  of  the  hill  hovels  on  the  northern  border. 
What  was  more  important,  there  was  constant  shipping  be- 
tween Bombay  and  the  home  of  the  plague,  and  it  was  well 
known  that  the  plague  was  a filth  disease. 

Bombay  is  not  the  dirtiest  city  in  India,  but  its  uncleanli- 
ness is  probably  exceeded  in  quality  by  that  of  Calcutta 
alone.  Yet  Bombay  possesses  more  dirt  and  it  is  more  com- 
pact, as  the  city  is  the  largest  in  the  country",  containing, 
according  to  the  last  census,  821,764  souls,  while  of  these 
about  770,000,  the  native  inhabitants,  are  for  the  most  part 
crowded  into  an  area  of  but  four  square  miles ; and  in  some 
parts  of  the  city  there  are  760  people  to  the  acre,  the  densest 
population,  it  is  said,  in  the  world. 

In  1661  the  city  had  a population  of  10,000,  and  in  1673  of 
60,000,  if  travellers’  estimates  may  be  trusted.  Filth  has  been 
gathering  in  the  town  for  centuries.  To  the  Portuguese,  the 
town  was  still  a ilha  da  boa  vida , “ the  island  of  good  life ; ” 


THE  PLAGUE. 


267 


but  by  1706  Waite  called  it  an  “unhealthful  island,”  and  in 
1707  he  alluded  to  it  as  “this  unveryhealthful  (sic)  island.” 
But  the  systematic  accumulation  of  filth  is  a later  growth, 
which  arose  in  this  way.  The  upper  part  of  the  city,  which 
even  now  is  swampy,  two  centuries  ago  was  almost  all  bog. 
The  town  is  on  an  island  (originally  seven  islands),  which 
like  New  York  is  pointed  at  the  south  and  gradually  broadens 
toward  the  north,  the  Battery  being  represented  by  the  ward 
or  district  of  Kolaba,  and  the  Harlem  Flats  by  the  northern 
swampy  district,  which  is  known  in  Bombay  also  as  the  Flats. 
The  lower  end  too  of  Bombay  is  rocky,  as  in  New  York.  But 
a large  part  of  the  interior  of  the  city  is  below  the  mean  sea- 
level.  Other  parts  formerly  below  have  been  filled  in  and 
raised,  but  not  with  sweet  soil.  For  the  present  city  is  largely 
built  up  on  hollows  filled  with  refuse,  partly  undrained.  The 
Fort,  the  southern  part  of  the  town  extending  nearly  to  the 
Victoria  Station,  then  the  native  town,  in  the  middle  of  the 
city,  and  eventually  the  districts  originally  outlying  but  now 
in  the  town  were  thus  reclaimed.  One  of  these  reclaimed 
tracts,  for  example,  is  the  present  Kamatipur  Ward,  where 
the  plague,  when  it  came,  raged  most  violently. 

The  city  grew  rapidly  and,  as  it  increased,  the  city  sweep- 
ings and  other  fouler  matter  were  utilized  to  make  new 
building-lots.  Thus  on  a foundation  of  mud  and  manure 
were  created  hundreds  of  salable  acres  in  Byculla,  in  Maza- 
gon,  in  the  Oart  (the  cocoa-nut  plantations),  and  still  later  in 
the  fashionable  northwest  quarter  of  the  town,  Malabar  Hill 
and  Breach  Candy  (i.  e.  khinda,  Pass). 

This  practice  was  discontinued  in  the  middle  of  the  present 
century,  but  in  the  sixties  the  city  authorities  resumed  it, 
converting  acres  of  swamp  into  valuable  property  by  filling 
them  up  with  decomposing  filth. 

Such  drainage  as  there  used  to  be  in  the  city  was  effected 
by  means  of  a main  drain  about  a mile  long,  which  was  in 
reality  an  elongated  cesspool,  since  there  was  not  fall  enough 
to  carry  off  the  stagnant  matter  constantly  accumulating  in 
it.  The  sewage  was  at  first  conveyed  into  the  Flats,  then 


268 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


into  the  harbor.  At  present  there  are  some  open  and  some 
closed  drains  in  the  city,  but  there  are  whole  districts 
which  have  none.  Mandvie  Ward,  where  the  plague  first 
appeared,  has  no  proper  sewerage,  but  only  water-drains,  con- 
structed in  1871,  which  are  intended  to  carry  off  the  surplus 
water  that  falls  in  floods  during  the  monsoon  season,  June- 
September.  The  whole  district  is  water-logged,  owing  to  the 
constant  silting  up  of  the  drains,  some  of  which  have  not 
been  cleaned  for  twelve  years.  Complaints  about  them  have 
been  frequent  for  fifteen  years. 

The  fashionable  drive  of  the  city  is  an  intra-mural  Appian 
Way  bordered  with  graves.  On  the  one  side  is  the  Bay,  on 
the  other  the  burning-ghats  of  the  Hindus  and  a burying- 
ground  of  the  Mohammedans.  The  heart  of  the  city  when  the 
plague  entered  it  — how  shall  one  describe  it  ? The  streets 
heaped  thick  with  foulest  stuff,  the  houses  not  free  of  it ; the 
native  town,  a labyrinth  of  malodorous  lanes,  which  connect 
streets  or  run  into  other  lanes,  or  form  blind  alleys ; and  be- 
sides these  lanes,  very  close  tunnels,  known  locally  as  gullies, 
which  perforate  the  filth,  and  are  intended  as  alley-ways  be- 
tween the  tenements.  These  buildings  are  indeed  not  like 
our  sky-scrapers,  but,  rising  as  they  do  to  a considerable 
height  on  either  side  of  a two-and-a-half  foot  gully,  they  cut 
off  all  sunlight  from  the  narrow  sty  below. 

Bombay,  like  New  York,  because  of  its  horn-like  shape,  has 
no  room  for  expansion  to  east  and  west,  and  as  there  is  no 
rapid  transit  the  poorer  people  are  necessarily  herded  to- 
gether, and  they  naturally  prefer  this  to  the  toil  and  expense 
of  a northern  journey  on  the  slow  tram.  In  Calcutta,  which 
is  all  built  on  a mud  flat  (or,  as  the  inhabitants  call  it,  an 
alluvial  plain),  there  is  room  for  the  poor,  and  they  still  con- 
tinue to  live,  more  or  less  separate,  in  small  groups  of  low 
hovels,  bustis.  But  in  Bombay’s  congested  middle  the  tene- 
ments, or  chaivls,  as  they  are  called,  are  as  large  if  not  so  high 
as  our  own  tenement  houses,  though  within  there  is  the 
difference  between  the  Orient  and  civilization.  There  are, 
indeed,  besides  these  structures,  which  contain  several  hun- 


THE  PLAGUE. 


269 


dred  inmates,  smaller  chawls,  holding  twenty  to  fifty  people, 
and  in  some  districts  there  are  single  houses  of  the  poor.  But 
to  describe  the  most  characteristic  of  them  will  suffice.  They 
all  have  two  things  in  common,  — darkness  and  dirt. 

In  small  houses,  such  as  are  found  chiefly  in  the  northern 
districts,  the  family  practically  live  in  one  dark  room,  out  of 
which,  however,  may  open  a darker  closet  for  water-pipes, 
where  washing  is  done  in  perpetual  dampness  and  gloom. 
The  floor  of  these  shanties  is  usually  of  mud,  and  the  mud 
is  usually  wet  with  all  kinds  of  water  and  filth. 

The  smaller  chawls  are  built  all  over  the  native  city.  They 
are  often  situated  two  or  three  feet  below  the  level  of  the 
street  or  lane.  Not  seldom  is  there  a cluster  of  them,  bor- 
dering a network  of  intricate  little  lanes,  in  some  of  which 
there  is  not  space  enough  for  two  persons  to  walk  abreast. 
Lanes  and  houses  are  alike  evil  to  see,  and  more  evil  to 
smell. 

But  of  the  big  chawls , where  land  is  more  valuable  (one 
hundred  dollars  or  more  a square  yard,  for  it  is  sold  by  this 
measure),  some  accommodate,  or  at  least  contain,  a thousand 
grimy  tenants.  These  caravanseries  are  the  especial  feature 
of  that  part  of  the  city  where  the  plague  first  started,  Mandvie 
Ward.  From  without  they  are  fair  enough  to  see,  and  at  first 
one  is  astonished  that  these  should  have  been  the  lair  of  the 
plague,  for  if  the  street  is  unclean  and  the  gullies  on  either 
side  of  the  chawl  are  indescribable,  the  buildings  themselves 
are  substantial,  and  seem  to  be  roomy.  But  the  manner  of 
their  iniquity  is  this : The  chawls  are  six  or  eight  stories 
high,  with  a six-foot  hallway  from  bottom  to  top  through  the 
middle  of  the  house,  where  a stair  takes  half  the  space  of  the 
hall ; and  a series  of  black  cubicles,  eight  or  ten  on  either 
side,  fronts  on  the  hallway  in  every  story.  The  hall  on  the 
ground-floor  is  lighted  by  the  entrance  doorway ; the  hall- 
ways above,  only  by  the  dim  light  from  below,  or  in  some 
cases  by  narrow  slits  in  the  back  wall  of  the  hall.  The  air 
which  comes  through  these  slits  rises  from  the  common  opening 
intended  as  a closet  in  the  rear  of  the  main  building.  The  little 


270 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


cubicles  along  each  hallway  are  eight  by  ten  feet.  They  have 
no  ventilation  and  no  light.  Each  is  usually  occupied  as  a 
sleeping  and  eating  room  by  a family  of  five  or  six,  though 
sleeping-space  is  generally  sublet  to  as  many  more  as  will  fill 
the  floor.  The  floors  of  these  “ better-class  ” chawls  are  of 
cement,  not  mud.  dhe  walls  used  to  be  of  bamboo,  but  are 
now  of  wood  and  plaster.  When  the  cubicles  get  too  dirty, 
they  are  subjected,  generally  in  view  of  a visit  from  an  in- 
spector, to  the  gobar  process.  This  consists  in  smearing  both 
floor  and  wall  with  cow-dung,  which  is  then  allowed  to  dry. 
It  purifies  the  air  to  some  extent,  and  has  a pungent  odor 
agreeable  to  the  natives.  On  this  carpet  of  cow-dung  new 
filth  then  collects  daily  as  before.  There  is  in  such  a cubicle 
no  furniture  save  bedding  and  a cooking-pot.  The  smoke 
finds  its  way  out  as  best  it  can.  In  the  corner  of  the  room  is 
a small  receptacle  called  a nahani,  pronounced  nanee,  which 
is  connected  with  a down-take  pipe  without,  and  is  intended 
only  as  a sink,  but  it  is  habitually  used  for  other  purposes. 
Everything  to  be  got  rid  of  is  thrust  down  the  nahani  pipe,  so 
that  it  is  frequently  clogged  full.  Since  the  only  light  in  the 
cubicle  comes  from  a dim,  unventilated  ball,  this  also  is  dark, 
close,  and  foul,  a noisome  den.  The  tenant  will  not  seldom 
refuse  to  clean  the  hall,  even  with  gobar , for  he  regards  that 
as  the  business  of  the  landlord,  who,  however,  is  generally 
content  if  his  rent  is  paid,  and  cleans  nothing.  Nor  will  the 
tenants  cease  to  dirty  the  gullies.  But,  in  a word,  to  make  a 
short  cut  through  nastiness,  the  personal  habits  of  the  natives 
of  the  tenement  class  are  not  much  better  than  those  of  ani- 
mals, which  indeed  share  houses  and  even  cubicles  with  them, 
and  help  to  render  these  unfit  for  human  habitation.  Sixteen 
to  twenty  of  these  cubicles  on  a floor,  six  or  eight  stories  of 
them,  constitute  a typical  Mandvie  chawl.  Not  the  poor  only, 
but  also  rich  native  merchants  are  found  in  such  habitations. 
A few  tenements  erected  on  sanitary  principles  are  to  be 
found  in  the  city,  but  almost  tbe  only  houses  of  this  sort  are 
those  erected  by  the  Tramway  Company,  which  is  under  the 
superintendence  of  an  American,  whose  decent  chawls  have 


THE  PLAGUE. 


271 


been  notably  free  from  plague  during  the  whole  of  the  pesti- 
lence. 

The  “ gullies  ” alongside  of  a chawl  are  dirtied  not  only  by 
irresponsible  people,  but  even  officially  by  the  halalkhores,  or 
bhungis.  These  are  the  regularly  appointed  employees  of  the 
municipality,  night-workers,  whose  business  it  is  to  remove 
the  night-soil  accumulated  through  the  day  and  carry  it  away 
in  carts.  Instead  of  doing  this,  they  are  apt  to  pitch  it  into  the 
nearest  water-drain  or  into  the  house-gully.  At  the  very  begin- 
ning of  the  plague  it  was  stated  that  hundreds  of  complaints 
had  been  made  in  regard  to  this  practice.  But  the  halal- 
khores continued  it  long  after  the  plague  had  broken  out,  as 
may  be  seen  from  many  reports  and  complaints  made  at  inter- 
vals all  winter.  These  reports  show,  too,  the  general  condi- 
tion of  the  streets,  where  cutchra  (street-sweepings)  had  been 
allowed  to  collect  for  years.  A month  after  the  plague  was 
known  to  be  in  the  city,  a native  physician,  at  a meeting  on 
October  19,  thus  describes  the  appearance  of  the  streets  : 
“ The  dust-bins  are  not  only  full  of  cutchra , but  filth  and  gar- 
bage are  lying  in  heaps  on  the  roads,  emitting  a stench  which 
is  highly  sickening.”  Another  says : “ Coomarwada  Second 
and  Third  lanes  are  in  a most  disgraceful  and  filthy  condition. 
The  side  gullies  are  full  of  all  abominations,  and  the  whole 
length  of  the  drain  is  choked  up  with  suilage  and  night-soil.” 
Still  another  physician  describes  Lohar  street,  “ where  suilage 
water  collected  itself  on  the  public  road,  and  ran  in  streams 
on  to  Kalbadevi  Road,”  and  adds,  “ The  attention  of  the  Health 
Department  had  been  repeatedly  drawn  to  the  nuisance  ” be- 
fore it  was  cleansed. 

Man  having  prepared  a place  for  plague,  Nature,  as  it  were, 
induced  the  monster  to  enter  it.  But  Nature  had  helped  man 
long  before.  During  the  summer  of  1896  the  rains,  usually 
distributed  over  four  months,  were  concentrated  in  the  first 
three  with  a total  excess  of  twenty-seven  inches  (above  the 
normal  fifty-eight  inches  for  the  three  months).  This  was 
followed  by  a partial  drought  in  September  and  excessively 
hot  weather  in  October.  As  a result  the  subsoil,  though  the 


272 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


surface  was  flooded,  was  less  evenly  and  thoroughly  soaked 
than  usual.  Consequently  the  noxious  filth  which  had  been 
accumulating  about  the  neglected  drains  in  the  subsoil  was  not 
held  thoroughly  in  solution,  although  the  total  rainfall  for 
the  year  (up  to  October),  87.65  inches,  exceeded  the  evapora- 
tion, and  was  in  fact  fifteen  inches  in  excess  of  the  average. 
But  to  ensure  the  health  of  the  city  there  should  be  ten  inches 
of  excess  of  precipitation  annually,  as  against  the  evaporation, 
whereas  since  1887  there  had  been  altogether  only  seventeen 
inches,  including  that  of  1896.  There  was  then,  given  an 
accumulation  of  filth  in  the  subsoil,  in  the  very  excess  of 
evaporation  for  a decade  past  the  meteorological  prelude  to 
the  drama  of  death. 

It  is  a curious  fact,  shown  in  the  Bombay  Observatory, 1 
that  there  is  an  excess  of  vapor  pressure  about  once  in  ten 
years,  corresponding  with  the  phase  of  “ maximum  sun-spot 
area.”  In  1896  there  was  a minimum  period,  hence  evapora- 
tion was  at  a maximum,  for  it  varies  inversely  as  the  vapor 
pressure.  With  a soil  fairly  clean,  the  effect  of  the  decennial 
fluctuation  is  slight ; but  when  excessive  evaporation  leaves  a 
soil  surcharged  with  filth,  there  is  a parallel  excess  of  escaping 
foul  gases  and  a perfect  environment  for  disease. 

Ten  years  before  the  plague  arrived,  the  death-rate  of  the 
city  was  but  24  per  thousand  annually.  Some  months  before, 
it  was  40  per  thousand.  The  mortality  had  increased  steadily 
for  six  years.  In  the  previous  year,  October,  1895,  to  Oc- 
tober, 1896,  it  was  nearly  two  thousand  more  than  in  the  year 
October,  1894,  to  October,  1895,  being  in  the  year  ending 
October,  1896,  about  27,000.  The  press  had  raised  in  regard 
to  neglect  of  sanitation  a warning  voice  six  months  before 
the  plague  came.  The  municipality,  however,  had  taken  no 
steps  to  meet  the  coming  emergency,  although  they  had 
twenty  lakhs  of  rupees  at  their  disposal.2 

1 These  observations  are  taken  from  Mr.  Baldwin  Latham’s  Report  on  the 
Sanitation  of  Bombay,  and  those  in  the  preceding  paragraph,  with  the  notes 
on  drainage  and  sweepings,  from  the  Times  of  India. 

* A rupee,  divided  into  sixteen  annas,  was,  in  1896,  equal  to  nearly  one-third 


THE  PLAGUE. 


273 


Under  the  government  there  is  a municipal  corporation  of 
seventy-two  members,  the  chief  executive  of  the  city  being 
the  municipal  commissioner.  Europeans  are  apt  to  neglect 
the  meetings  of  the  corporation,  partly  because  their  vote 
does  not  count  for  much  when  opposed  to  that  of  the  natives, 
who  have  a two-thirds  majority,  and  partly  because  they 
“have  no  time  to  spend  on  politics.”  Subordinate  to  the 
commissioner  are  the  various  heads  of  departments,  for  ex- 
ample, the  officers  of  the  harbor,  police,  engineering,  and 
health  departments,  with  whom  the  commissioner  usually  con- 
sults, but  to  whom  in  the  end  he  issues  peremptory  instruc- 
tions. To  an  American,  the  most  astounding  fact  in  the 
constitution  of  the  city  government  is  that  the  health  officer, 
instead  of  being  dictator,  as  he  should  be  and  is  with  us  when 
public  health  is  in  question,  is  without  power,  being  subordi- 
nate to  the  municipal  commissioner,  from  whom  he  virtually 
has  to  receive  orders. 

The  plague  entered  the  city,  as  nearly  as  can  be  reckoned, 
in  the  last  week  of  August,  1896.  In  the  first  week  of  Sep- 
tember the  health  officer  was  informed  of  the  fact,  but,  accord- 
ing to  his  own  statement,  he  had  already  known  of  it  for  some 
time.  By  September  3,  certain  physicians  who  were  members 
of  the  corporation  were  already  treating  the  malady  as  true 
plague. 

The  first  cases  appeared  in  Mandvie  Ward,  a district  of 
37,000  inhabitants,  in  the  middle  of  the  city.  It  spread  rather 
slowly  at  first,  but  before  September  was  half  over  the  native 
population  had  become  frightened,  and  prominent  native  citi- 
zens were  shortly  organizing  such  measures  of  relief  as  the 
divines  of  the  Orient  deem  sufficient  to  prevent  the  progress 
of  plague.  An  exodus  from  this  ward  and  even  from  other 
parts  of  the  city  had  already  begun.  But  the  health  officer 
still  officially  ignored  the  whole  matter.  Not  yet  had  the 
commissioner  taken  any  steps  to  prevent  the  spread  of  the 

of  a dollar,  though  its  nominal  value  is  about  half  a dollar  (two  shillings), 
and  it  has  been  as  low  as  a quarter.  The  anna  may  be  reckoned  as  equivalent 
to  two  cents.  A lakh  is  100,000.  One  hundred  lakhs  make  a karor  or  crore. 

18 


274 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


disease ; nor  had  the  press  spoken.  Though  the  presence  of 
the  plague  was  known  to  many,  silence  was  the  rule. 

Bat  when  three  whole  weeks  of  September  had  passed  and, 
as  nearly  as  can  be  estimated,  between  two  and  three  hundred 
people  had  died  of  the  plague,  the  matter  was  casually  men- 
tioned at  an  ordinary  meeting  of  the  standing  committee  of 
the  corporation,  held  on  September  23,  when  a private  physi- 
cian first  called  attention  to  it,  and  on  the  spot  named  the 
disease  by  its  true  name.  Referring  to  “ the  existence  and 
prevalence  of  a dire  malady  on  the  Port  Trust  Estate  and  its 
vicinity,”  he  said : “ The  malady  is  the  bubonic  plague.  . . . 
I think  it  is  caused  by  the  putrid  emanation  from  the  putrefy- 
ing and  decomposing  matter  in  the  sewers  on  the  Port  Trust 
Estate,  which  are  choked,  and  can  only  be  called  cesspools. 

...  I have  more  than  once  called  the  attention  of  the  cor- 
poration to  the  great  danger.”  Another  gentleman  stated 
that  he  had  heard  of  the  prevalence  of  the  plague  “about 
twenty  days  ago,”  and  continued  : “ I at  once  communicated 
with  the  health  officer  . . . and  furnished  him  with  the 
numbers  and  descriptions  of  houses  where  the  epidemic  had 
broken  out.  ...  I am  informed  that  between  two  and  three 
hundred  men  have  died  from  the  plague  during  the  last  fort- 
night, and  panic-stricken  residents  of  the  locality  have  been 
migrating  to  Kutch  and  Kathiawar  and  other  distant  places.” 

The  health  officer,  when  he  had  been  requested  to  make  a 
few  remarks,  cautiously  said  : “ In  regard  to  the  occurrence 
of  cases  of  a peculiar  type  of  fever  referred  to,  it  may  be  men- 
tioned that  the  type  is  of  a suspicious  character,”  adding  that 
he  had  known  of  the  matter  for  some  time  before  any  one  had 
spoken  to  him  about  it,  and  that  he  had  been  taking  “ special 
precautions.”  It  would  be  interesting  to  know  in  what  the 
precautions  consisted ; certainly  not  in  any  of  the  preventive 
measures  usually  taken  to  avoid  infection. 

In  regard  to  the  filth  spoken  of,  it  may  be  remarked  once 
for  all  that  when  the  plague  appeared  in  a new  district  it 
appeared  in  filth.  Thus  when  it  moved  north  and  attacked 
the  people  at  Grant  Road,  the  first  case  reported  from  there 


THE  PLAGUE. 


275 


was  “in  a hovel  in  one  of  the  rows  of  particularly  filthy 
hovels ; ” and  the  first  cases  that  were  noticed  in  the  city,  in 
Clive  Road,  Argyle  Road,  and  Broach  Street,  were  in  general 
in  an  unusually  unclean  environment.  The  only  apparent 
exceptions  were  the  cases  in  “ large  commodious  corner- 
houses  exposed  to  the  sea  breeze.”  By  them,  and  they  were 
many,  who  were  pecuniarily  interested  in  proving  that  insani- 
tary surroundings  were  not  conducive  to  insanitation  (for 
nearly  half  of  the  municipal  corporation  are  owners  of  chaivls, 
and  in  fact  some  of  the  most  disreputable  tenements  in  the 
city  are  owned  by  members  of  this  body),  these  cases  were 
cited  as  proof  of  their  contention.  What  the  commodious 
houses  of  this  district  are,  I have  shown  above ; the  fact  that 
a cold  breeze  made  the  half-naked  inmates  liable  to  catch 
cold,  and  that  the  plague  began  with  pulmonary  trouble,  may 
have  offset  the  hygienic  advantage  of  salt  in  the  air.  But 
the  accident  of  position  was  not  really  a very  important  item 
in  a town  where  the  vilest  alleys  border  on  the  best  streets. 
The  Parsee  temple  near  the  Post  Office  is  on  a fine  avenue, 
but  beside  it  is  a horrible  little  lane,  and  the  temple  itself  till 
late  in  the  winter  contained  a very  filthy  well,  so  that  it  was 
not  surprising  that  plague  broke  out  in  the  little  lane  early  in 
the  season,  though  the  lane  runs  up  to  the  west,  which  in 
Bombay  is  the  windward  side  of  the  city,  and  the  house  of 
plague  was  within  a few  rods  of  a broad  drive,  apparently 
clean  but  invisibly  diseased,  like  the  temple,  the  worshippers 
at  which  were  sorely  smitten. 

Testimony  as  to  the  wealth  or  poverty  of  the  first  victims, 
as  also  in  regard  to  the  religious  community  to  which  they 
belonged  and  their  nationality,  was  very  contradictory,  be- 
cause each  reported  according  to  the  few  facts  he  knew, 
or  perhaps  according  to  his  prejudices.  Only  one  general 
statement  remained  undisputed,  and  this  was  that  the  vic- 
tims were  at  first  chiefly  young  people  from  five  to  thirty 
years  of  age.  In  respect  of  the  disputed  points,  judging  from 
the  most  reliable  testimony  given  on  several  occasions  and 
from  what  I heard,  the  earliest  victims  would  seem  to  have 


276 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


been  neither  wealthy  Hindu  merchants  nor  Jains,  as  was  vari- 
ously asserted,  but  first  of  all  poor  Hindus  and  then  Jains 
and  Mohammedans.  But  the  item  of  wealth  makes  little 
difference,  since,  with  some  exceptions,  personal  cleanliness 
amongst  the  natives  is  not  up  to  the  standard  demanded  by 
hygienic  laws,  even  in  the  case  of  the  well-to-do,  for  often 
even  the  wealthy  live  in  opulent  squalor. 

Before  the  municipality  had  officially  heard  of  the  plague’s 
existence,  the  common  citizens  had  invented,  or  more  strictly 
imported,  a cure  for  it,  and  made  preparations  to  ward  off  the 
wrath  of  Heaven,  whom  they  make  responsible  for  everything. 

In  respect  of  the  cure,  the  natives  had  observed  that  the 
slight  pain  in  the  groin  on  the  first  day  and  the  enlargement 
of  the  glands  on  the  second  were  usually  followed  by  high 
fever  and  delirium,  and  that  on  the  third  day  the  patient  died.1 
They  therefore  endeavored  to  check  the  appearance  of  the 
bubo  by  applying  a hot  iron  to  the  groin  and  removing  the 
cuticle.  Acting  on  the  suggestion  of  some  Bhatias,  who  had 
described  how  cautery  was  practised  in  Kutch,  the  Indian 

1 The  symptoms  of  the  plague  described  above  in  outline  were  retailed  at 
length  from  personal  observation  by  Dr.  Atmaran  Pandurang  in  October. 
With  the  addition  of  other  (bracketed)  tokens,  specified  in  a later  report  by 
Dr.  Jas.  Cantlie,  they  are  as  follows:  “A  peculiar  discoloration  of  the  skin, 
prostration,  countenance  stupid,  expression  of  apathy,  fever  frequent  and 
feeble  pulse  [delirium,  vomiting,  cardiac  distress,  terrible  thirst],  enlarged 
lymphatic  glands  in  the  groin,  the  arm-pit,  and  the  neck,  those  in  the  groin 
usually  forming  a large  swelling  painful  to  the  touch,  the  bubo;  no  diarrhoea 
but  bowels  costive,  liver  and  spleen  enlarged,  but  no  change  in  the  urine  in 
quantity  or  appearance,  hurried  breathing,  not  answering  readily  questions 
put,  drowsiness  running  rapidly  into  coma  and  death  ; but  in  quick  cases,  feeble 
pulse,  hurried  breathing,  drowsiness,  coma,  death,  without  fever  or  enlargement 
of  glands.  Other  cases  take  two  to  seven  days  ; quick  cases,  six  to  twenty-four 
hours.”  The  “ quick  ” cases,  though  infrequent  at  first  in  Bombay,  became 
common  in  the  course  of  the  winter.  At  Karachi,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
plague  appeared  at  the  very  first  in  the  quick  form,  and  the  first  victims  there 
lived  only  a few  hours.  Patients  that  recovered  were  sometimes  left  in  a 
paralytic  state.  The  plague  which  devastated  middle  India  at  the  close  of 
the  seventeenth  century  was  “ so  violent  that  in  a few  hours  it  depopulates 
whole  cities,”  as  is  reported,  in  1695,  by  Dr.  Careri.  It  was  called  goli  (ball, 
bubo)  by  the  natives  and  carazzo  (implying  the  bubo),  by  the  Portuguese- 
Dr.  Da  Cunha,  Origin  of  Bombay,  p.  191. 


THE  PLAGUE. 


277 


doctors  thus  put  their  patients  to  useless  torture  and  cured 
none.  But  there  were  many  quack  cures  which  the  natives 
adopted  in  lieu  of  better  instruction,  for  the  municipality 
appointed  no  special  physicians  to  see  to  them  for  some  time 
after  the  meeting  of  the  23d,  and  the  poor,  so  far  as  the 
authorities  were  concerned,  were  allowed  to  die  unattended. 
But  from  the  time  the  plague  broke  out,  the  vaidyas  (doctors, 
literally  wiseacres)  of  the  Hindus  and  the  hakim  of  the  Mo- 
hammedans might  be  seen  sitting  on  the  curb-stones,  selling 
powdered  lizard  and  other  antidotes,  not  always  so  harm- 
less. For  both  in  Bombay  and  in  the  Mofussil,  where  also 
the  plague  soon  appeared,  it  presently  became  a crying  evil 
that  these  unlicensed  quacks  were  murdering  men  with  many 
decoctions.  But  the  half-educated  as  well  as  the  ignorant 
believed  in  them. 

On  the  very  day  on  which  was  held  the  municipal  meet- 
ing referred  to  above,  where  was  uttered  the  first  warning  of 
coming  trouble,  there  was  another  meeting  in  Bombay.  The 
native  merchants,  more  alive  to  the  danger  than  were  their 
official  protectors,  assembled  at  the  office  of  a Bhatia  and 
invited  subscriptions  “for  the  poor  who  were  afflicted  with 
the  scourge,”  and  for  the  performance  of  religious  rites  to 
propitiate  Kali,  the  dreaded  spouse  of  ^iva,  for  to  her  anger 
the  Hindus  attributed  the  plague. 

The  press  and  the  municipal  authorities  said,  “ Hush ! lest 
the  world  hear  of  it  and  business  be  injured,”  but  the  Hindus, 
and  the  Mohammedans  also,  were  already  crying  aloud  for  aid. 
A series  of  religious  processions  followed. 

First,  the  Brahmans  attempted  to  appease  the  wrath  of  Kali, 
and  three  days  after  the  municipal  meeting  they  paraded 
the  streets  where  plague  was  well  known  to  be  at  work, 
marching  in  solemn  procession,  clad  in  gay  robes,  and  re- 
citing Sanskrit  verses.  It  was  supposed  by  some  of  the 
lower  classes  that  Kali  had  been  angered  through  the  rejec- 
tion of  the  old  metal  anklets,  such  as  the  women  used  to 
wear,  in  favor  of  dark -green  banyris,  or  patlis  (bangles)  of 
glass,  which  had  recently  been  introduced  into  the  city. 


278 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


It  was  said  that  cows’  blood  was  used  in  the  manufacture 
of  the  new  bangles,  but  very  likely  the  whole  tale  origi- 
nated with  the  rival  manufacturers  of  the  metal  anklets. 
However  that  may  be,  there  was  now  on  the  part  of  the 
women,  chiefly  mill-hands,  a general  return  to  the  holy 
ancient  way,  and  a great  breaking  of  glass.  So,  after  the 
Hindu  women  had  broken  all  their  bangles,  and  the  Brah- 
mans had  recited  their  Sanskrit  verses,  the  priests  proclaimed 
that  Kali  was  angry  no  longer.  Then  for  a few  days  the 
Hindus  believed  that  they  were  saved. 

But  the  Mohammedans,  who  do  not  believe  in  Kali,  had  their 
own  rites,  and  three  days  later,  that  is,  on  September  29,  they 
too  held  a religious  service,  similar  to  that  of  the  Brahmans. 
For  after  a band  of  fakirs  had  assembled  on  the  seashore 
near  the  Churney  Road  Gardens  (by  the  Queen’s  Road)  and 
offered  prayer  there,  they  began  to  march,  and  in  an  array 
similar  to  that  of  a Greek  chorus,  namely,  in  tiles  of  three 
(their  number  too  was  fifty),  paraded  together  to  the  Field  of 
Death,  for  so  Mandvie  Ward  was  already  called  by  the  poor 
(though  the  municipality  had  not  yet  recognized  that  there 
was  any  plague  in  the  city).  Through  this  ward,  with  heads 
uncovered  and  bare  feet  and  to  the  music  of  a bagpipe,  they 
marched  first,  and  then  in  the  same  way  visited  in  order  all 
the  other  places  where  the  disease  was  known  to  be,  for  it  had 
spread  even  outside  the  limits  of  Mandvie.  They  thought 
that  the  holiness  of  their  presence  after  the  performance  of  the 
rites  would  tend  to  allay  the  malady,  and,  like  the  Brahmans, 
they  really  did  do  some  good,  for  they  helped  to  still  the  pop- 
ular fear.  But  to  the  stranger  they  were  less  imposing  on 
account  of  an  innocent  error  which  they  were  led  to  commit. 
For  though  they  bore  themselves  not  unworthily  of  their 
sacred  mission,  yet  the  leader,  who  made  the  music,  having 
been  at  some  time,  as  it  would  seem,  a musician  in  a British 
regiment,  played  on  his  bagpipe  only  Scotch  jigs.  He  played 
with  great  solemnity  as  well  as  ability,  but  the  effect  was 
risible,  and  the  number  of  the  band  also  suggested  comedy 
rather  than  tragedy. 


THE  PLAGUE. 


279 


The  next  day,  for  the  native  town  was  now  in  great  terror, 
and  those  who  had  not  participated  in  the  first  celebration 
were  glad  to  take  part  in  the  second,  the  Hindus  again  en- 
treated their  gods.  But  the  chief  suppliants  were  not  the 
poorer  classes,  for  only  wealthy  merchants  and  their  friends 
and  families  were  engaged  in  the  ceremony  itself,  which 
differed  from  the  former  Hindu  rite,  and  in  preserving  many 
ancient  superstitions,  such  as  those  of  holy  numbers  and  the 
circumambulation  of  fire,  was  of  peculiar  interest.  It  was 
carried  out  in  the  following  manner.  First  of  all,  at  the  en- 
trance to  the  lane  called  Dariasthan  in  Mandvie,  there  was 
erected  a golden  entablature  of  welcome  to  the  invited  guests, 
who  were  more  than  a thousand  in  number,  and  were  to  pass 
through  this  lane  to  the  temple  of  the  same  name  situated  there. 
The  whole  rite  was  at  the  cost  of  a pious  Hindu,  who  had  bidden 
his  friends  to  this  ceremony,  which  might  almost  be  called  a 
feast,  since,  though  the  function  was  essentially  an  intercessory 
service,  it  partook  of  the  nature  of  a festival,  as  will  be  seen. 
For  when  the  guests  had  passed  the  sign  of  welcome  and  were 
come  through  the  lane,  which  was  further  decorated  with  ban- 
ners and  variegated  bunting,  they  entered  the  temple  to  the 
sound  of  music,  which  was  made  by  a band  of  native  musi- 
cians. Most  of  the  women  remained  in  the  entrance-hall  or 
went  to  the  galleries  above,  but  some  went  into  the  inner 
temple  with  the  men.  There  rites  of  prayer  were  first  per- 
formed, but  not  such  as  call  for  further  notice,  save  that  they 
were  invocations  directed  to  the  assuagement  of  Kali’s  anger. 
Then,  however,  the  priests  turned  to  a huge  kettle,  which 
stood  in  the  middle  of  the  square  of  the  inner  temple,  and 
having  placed  in  this  the  feast  agreeable  to  the  goddess,  cocoa- 
nuts,  melted  butter,  and  rice,  together  with  costly  incense  and 
many  fragrant  drugs,  they  covered  these  things  with  vermil- 
ion powder,  such  as  the  Hindus  use  to  mark  the  sacred 
namon  on  their  foreheads,  and  then  burned  all  the  contents  of 
the  kettle  as  an  acceptable  sacrifice.  It  was  burned  by  seven 
priests,  which  is  a sacred  number.  Then  these  seven  circum- 
ambulated seven  times  the  place  of  sacrifice,  keeping  their 


280 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


right  side  toward  the  fire.  Girls  also,  decked  in  garlands,  fol- 
lowed the  priests,  for  Kali  has  female  servitors.  Then  prayers 
were  said,  and  there  was  a great  noise  from  the  cymbals,  in 
making  which,  or  other  music,  each  musician  strove  to  pro- 
duce as  much  racket  as  possible  with  his  brass  instrument, 
since  in  this  way  the  lesser  spirits  of  disease,  as  they  believe, 
are  frightened  away.  Thus  this  worship  of  Kali  combined 
elements  the  most  diverse.  For  with  the  self-same  music 
they  believed  that  they  were  both  pleasing  the  goddess  and  dis- 
maying her  attendants.  There  was  nothing  more  done  in  the 
temple ; but  subsequently,  towards  the  cool  of  the  afternoon, 
these  people  and  a good  many  more,  all  wearing  holiday 
clothes  and  ornaments,  proceeded  through  the  stricken  district, 
priests  first,  then  the  men,  and  finally  women.  They  thus 
passed  by  the  way  of  Kazi  Syed  Street,  and  the  Musjid  Bunder 
Bridge,  through  Argyle  Road  and  Broach  Street,  where  the 
plague  was  worst,  to  the  waterside  at  Carnac  Bunder,  and 
there,  after  singing  and  praying  as  they  had  done  upon  the 
route,  they  cast  oblations  into  the  sea,  and  having  prayed 
again,  went  home. 

But  after  this  there  were  no  more  superstitious  rites  for  a 
long  time,  partly  because  to  the  Hindus  so  much  of  the 
following  month  was  a time  of  regular  continued  sacrifice, 
and  partly  because  all  hoped  that  what  they  had  done  already 
would  prove  efficacious.  Only  the  Roman  Catholic  and  Pro- 
testant churches  had  services  for  the  same  purpose  of  averting 
the  wrath  of  the  Deity,  first  in  the  cathedral  at  Magazon,  on 
October  5-7,  and  again  on  the  11th  at  the  same  place  in  con- 
nection with  a High  Mass  in  honor  of  St.  Sebastian.  And  be- 
tween these,  intercessory  prayers  were  offered,  in  behalf  of  the 
sufferers  from  the  plague,  at  the  Protestant  Missionary  Confer- 
ence. But  these  familiar  services  need  no  description. 

At  the  meeting  of  the  standing  committee  on  September 
23  a private  physician  had  demanded  “ isolation  ” of  plague- 
patients.  No  attention  was  paid  to  him.  Before  the  end  of 
the  month  the  Times  of  India,  admitting  that  plague  was  in 
the  city,  called  for  proper  segregation.  This,  by  the  way,  was 


THE  PLAGUE. 


281 


the  only  paper  in  Bombay  that  then  or  afterwards  envisaged 
fairly  the  facts  of  the  situation.  Two  days  after  the  meeting 
of  the  committee  a prominent  physician  said  that  he  “ knew 
personally  ” of  fifteen  to  twenty  deaths  a day  from  plague. 
No  medical  man  of  any  repute  denied  that  the  “ peculiar 
fever,”  so  lightly  treated  by  the  health  officer,  was  bubonic 
plague.  Yet  no  arrangements  had  been  made  for  a plague- 
hospital.  The  Health  Department  continued  to  pooh-pooh, 
and  insisted  that  the  trouble  was  confined  to  one  community, 
though  physicians  bore  direct  testimony  to  the  contrary.  The 
municipal  commissioner  exercised  none  of  the  powers  which 
had  been  conferred  upon  him  by  the  Municipal  Act  to  prevent 
the  spread  of  disease,  though  he  was  advised  to  apply  for  more 
power  by  the  government  committee  appointed  to  inquire  into 
the  plague.  The  word  “ plague  ” was  officially  tabued.  The 
little-death,  as  the  hotel-keepers  called  it,  was  known  to  the 
Health  Department  also  as  bubonic  “ fever  ” only ; nor  for  a 
month  after  the  meeting  of  the  standing  committee  on  Sep- 
tember 23  was  plague  under  any  name  allowed  to  stand  in 
the  official  records.  The  first  entry  was  for  the  week  ending 
October  20  (as  “ bubonic  fever”).  Even  after  this,  most  of  the 
plague-deaths  were  distributed  under  the  captions  of  pulmo- 
nary diseases,  phthisis,  old  age,  and  the  like. 

The  reason  for  this  concealment  was  tersely  stated  in  the 
municipal  corporation : Bombay  was  a trading  city ; knowl- 
edge of  the  plague  would  hurt  trade.  For  this,  amongst  other 
more  personal  reasons,  the  commissioner  and  his  subordinates 
concealed  the  truth.  For  this  reason  also  the  chairman  of  the 
Chamber  of  Commerce,  a month  after  the  pest  appeared,  de- 
clared that  there  was  no  such  thing  as  plague  in  town ; naively 
adding  that,  as  Colombo  had  already  quarantined  against 
Bombay,  any  one  might  see  how  inimical  to  the  welfare  of  the 
city  were  revelations  so  untimely. 

The  health  officer’s  only  move  to  meet  the  plague  in  battle 
was  to  remove  filth.  Other  members  of  the  municipality,  on 
the  other  hand,  were  rather  inclined  to  the  opinion  that  filth 
was  innocuous.  The  police  commissioner,  who  had  a great 


282 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


deal  more  to  say  about  sanitation  than  had  the  health  officer, 
made  some  remarks  on  the  subject  at  the  next  meeting  of  the 
standing  committee.  He  was  convinced,  he  said,  that  the 
plague  was  due  to  sugar  and  silk.  Date  fruit  came  from 
Baghdad,  and  silk  came  from  Hong  Kong.  These  places  had 
had  the  plague,  and  were  responsible  for  its  presence  in 
Bombay.  Filth  had  nothing  to  do  with  it.  Perhaps  rats 
were  responsible;  on  the  whole,  he  thought  rats  were  re- 
sponsible; perhaps  rats  and  sugar  and  silk  were  all  alike 
responsible.  He  was  not  sure,  but  he  inclined  to  sugar  and 
silk;  anyway,  drains  and  filth  had  nothing  to  do  with  the 
matter  ; but  perhaps  it  was  rats. 

On  the  same  day,  September  30,  the  municipal  commis- 
sioner informed  the  government  that  in  his  opinion  “ there 
was  no  cause  for  very  serious  alarm.”  The  question  of  rats 
versus  drains  was  agitated  for  a long  time  in  the  city,  for  it 
was  supposed  that  the  plague  sprang  up  in  the  town  spon- 
taneously, and  it  was  not  known  till  long  afterwards  that 
early  in  August  a band  of  pilgrims  bad  come  to  Bombay 
from  a Himalayan  village  where  the  plague  is  endemic. 
Therefore  they  may  have  brought  the  disease  with  them ; 
but  as  to  the  other  causes,  as  has  been  said  already,  mer- 
chandise cannot  carry  the  germs,  and  the  plague  always 
sprang  up  in  the  filthiest  environment.  But  rats  have  the 
disease,  and  when  dead  rats  were  found  on  a place  plague 
followed,  yet  only  if  the  place  was  quite  filth}' ; for  dead  rats 
were  found  even  in  the  hotels  without  plague  following.1 

On  October  5 and  6,  respectively,  the  government  pro- 
posed that  the  sanitary  staff  of  the  municipality  should  be 

1 Among  the  odd  statistics  published  during  the  year  it  was  shown  that 
while  respectable  women  died  as  easily  as  the  men,  the  prostitutes  were  almost 
immune,  not  because  the  wages  of  sin  was  life,  but  because  these  women 
kept  themselves  cleaner,  and  were  better  fed ; for  which  reason,  perhaps,  the 
Europeans  also  were  spared.  How  absurd  were  some  explanations  given  in 
regard  to  susceptibility  to  the  disease,  was  revealed  by  another  statistical 
report  which  stated  (in  April)  that,  whereas  native  Protestant  Christians  died 
at  the  rate  of  16  per  thousand,  Roman  Catholic  Christians  died  at  the  rate 
of  40  per  thousand  ; whether  because  of  cleanliness,  robustness,  or  creed,  was, 
however,  not  stated. 


THE  PLAGUE. 


283 


increased;  and  a Notification  was  drawn  up  by  the  munici- 
pal executive,  the  terms  of  which  were  interpreted  to  mean 
that  the  segregation  of  plague-patients  would  be  made 
compulsory. 

This  Notification  of  October  6 immediately  became  a bone 
of  contention.  It  was  six  months  to  a day  before  the  most 
recalcitrant  natives  were  brought  to  see  that  English  author- 
ity could  enforce  segregation.  But  this  was  under  the  pressure 
of  a stronger  hand  than  that  of  the  municipal  commissioner. 

The  municipal  commissioner  received  an  extra  grant  of 
100,000  rupees  for  sanitary  purposes  (for  which  he  had 
applied  on  September  30),  but  about  a third  of  it  was  spent  in 
making  manholes.  The  remainder  was  sunk  in  work  neglected 
for  years,  such  as  the  excavation  from  the  drains  of  a thousand 
tons  of  silt,  which,  though  disinfected,  still  “emitted  sick- 
ening smells,”  the  flushing  of  drains,  and  cleansing  of  alleys. 
Most  of  the  appropriation  was  gone  in  three  weeks  (Octo- 
ber 19).  There  was  soon  more  muck  dug  up  in  the  city  than 
could  be  carted  away.  It  stood  for  days  heaped  in  offensive 
mounds,  while  the  upturned  soil  reeked  with  foul  gases.  As 
to  the  segregation  of  plague-patients,  the  health  officer  had  not 
only  taken  no  interest  in  it,  but  had  expressed  it  as  his  deliber- 
ate opinion  that  it  was  “ impracticable,  out  of  the  question.” 
In  this  opinion  he  was  supported  by  influential  members  of 
the  municipality.  For  instance,  the  chairman  of  the  standing 
committee,  a native  Hindu  physician,  declared  at  a meeting 
of  medical  men  that  segregation  was  cruel  and  useless ; and 
the  meeting  applauded  him.  The  most  done  to  prevent  the 
spread  of  the  plague  was  to  try  and  catch  plague-patients  as 
they  ran  about  the  city,  and  disinfect  them.  They  were  con- 
tinually flitting  from  one  part  of  the  town  to  another.  But 
the  arrest  of  such  persons  was  always  regarded  as  a happy 
accident;  no  system  was  employed,  and  thus  from  infected 
localities  the  fleeing  natives  shortly  spread  the  plague  over 
districts  not  before  contaminated. 

The  health  officer’s  published  statements  that  segregation 
was  an  absurdity  played  directly  into  the  hands  of  the  natives, 


284 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


who  immediately  protested  against  any  form  of  general  segre- 
gation, not  only  because  in  their  opinion  it  was  merely  an 
English  fad,  but  particularly  on  the  ground  that  the  holy 
privacy  of  the  Hindu  or  Mohammedan  home  was  thereby  in- 
vaded. The  judgment  of  a committee  of  physicians  (who 
had  been  especially  appointed  to  report  and  advise),  to  the 
effect  that  segregation  was  a necessity,  here  went  for  naught. 
Few  natives  have  yet  learned  that  there  is  nothing  holy  which 
is  opposed  to  the  public  weal. 

Another  religious  phase  of  the  opposition  to  segregation 
was  the  kismet  theory  of  the  Mohammedans,  which  has  its 
parallel  among  the  Hindus.  According  to  this  theory,  it  is 
impious  to  try  and  escape  from  the  fate  prepared  by  God. 
Moreover,  it  is  useless,  and  hence  precautions  are  vain. 
Amongst  both  divisions  of  Indians  the  practical  result  of  this 
theory  is  to  make  them  not  only  scorn  segregation,  but  also 
disregard  all  laws  of  health.  No  importance  is  attached  to 
the  sanitary  condition  of  houses  or  towns.  Disease  and  death 
are  gifts  of  God.  They  hold  in  this  regard  that  Christians 
are  cowards ; that  it  is  a craven  fear  which  induces  them  to 
clean  houses  and  streets  ; and  care  of  health  is  an  impiety 
which  would  obstruct  God's  will. 

No  sooner  had  the  Notification  of  October  6 been  signed, 
and  a few  patients  had  been  removed  to  the  Arthur  Road 
Hospital  for  Infectious  Diseases,  than  the  health  of  the  town 
unfortunately  began  to  improve.  The  municipal  commissioner 
at  once  concluded  that  the  plague  was  not  going  to  amount 
to  much  after  all.  For  a few  days,  however,  segregation  was 
enforced,  though  it  was  afterwards  asserted  that  no  formal 
order  requiring  such  enforcement  had  ever  been  issued.  But 
the  natives,  Hindus  and  Mohammedans,  were  clamorous  for 
the  repeal  of  the  obnoxious  measure.  The  health  officer  had, 
besides,  enough  to  do  in  accomplishing  the  undone  work  of  a 
decade,  and  could  spare  no  men  or  moneys  for  other  things. 

With  the  news  that  plague  was  to  be  opposed  with  segre- 
gation, and  the  ensuing  diminution  in  plague-cases,  hope  had 
sprung  up  in  the  breasts  of  the  European  residents.  More- 


THE  PLAGUE. 


285 


over,  they  expected  much  from  a change  in  the  weather,  not 
knowing  that  cold  aided  the  plague.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
Hindus,  who  to  a man  believe  in  astrology,  had  their  own 
reasons  for  feeling  encouraged.  There  were  five  Tuesdays  in 
the  month,  the  new  moon  came  on  a Tuesday,  the  Sankranti 
Feast  came  on  a Tuesday.  When  these  ill-omened  Tuesdays 
were  past  and  the  (Hindu)  month  came  to  an  end,  then,  they 
said,  the  plague  would  go.  But  instead,  more  trouble  both 
abroad  and  at  home.  Aden,  belonging  to  the  Bombay  Presi- 
dency, Colombo  in  Ceylon,  Naples  and  other  European  ports 
quarantined  against  Bombay.  The  merchants  began  to  feel 
the  pinch ; but  their  dependents  and  smaller  local  tradesmen 
felt  it  more.  And,  despite  official  reports,  the  plague  kept 
spreading. 

On  September  20  a man  had  died  of  plague  in  Mandvie. 
Four  days  later  a boy  was  taken  from  this  man’s  house  to 
Kamatipur  Ward.  He  was  removed  while  suffering  from  the 
plague.  In  less  than  a fortnight  Kamatipur,  thus  infected, 
had  as  many  cases  as  Mandvie  itself.  The  streets  of  this  new 
district  were  indescribably  dirty ; the  gullies  were  not  flushed; 
the  filth  was  so  great  that  even  the  common  people  fretted 
at  it.  Complaints  had  been  made  to  the  Health  Department, 
but  up  to  October  5 the  only  thing  done  was  to  remove  one 
patient.  In  this  case,  as  in  all  others,  the  health  officer, 
instead  of  preventing,  walked  behind  the  plague. 

Before  the  middle  of  October,  plague  was  firmly  fastened  on 
Mandvie,  the  Fort,  Ivolaba,  and  Kamatipur.  On  October  6, 
the  very  day  of  the  Notification,  a man  came  down  to  Bombay 
from  Poona.  He  had  the  plague,  which  he  had  first  carried 
from  Bombay  to  Poona,  and  then  brought  back  to  Bombay. 
From  this  time  on  Poona  was  infected,  two  fatal  cases  being 
reported  there  by  October  14.  In  the  North,  emigrants  from 
Bombay  had  already  infected  Ahmedabad  (October  5). 
Karachi  quarantined  against  Bombay  on  October  13.  But  it 
was  of  no  avail.  No  real  quarantine  on  the  railways  was 
introduced  till  months  afterwards.  A careless  inspection  of 
outgoing  passengers  was  begun  at  Bombay  itself.  But  this 


286 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


did  not  hinder  the  exodus  of  plague-cases;  and  till  January 
the  Mofussil  districts  continued  to  receive  uninspected  plague- 
stricken  patients  from  the  Presidential  town. 

For  no  sooner  was  the  Notification  put  in  force  than  many 
of  the  unwilling  natives,  who  would  not  submit  to  it,  pre- 
pared to  flee.  Thousands  had  fled  from  fear  of  the  plague 
alone,  hut  thousands  more  fled  in  dread  of  the  hospital.  By 
the  middle  of  October  the  population  was  already  sensibly 
diminished.  Starvation  prices  began  to  obtain  in  Bombay, 
and  curiously  enough,  famine  abroad,  instead  of  deterring  refu- 
gees, in  the  end  helped  to  increase  the  number  of  emigrants. 
For  just  as  soon  as  relief-works  were  opened  for  sufferers 
from  famine,  the  day-laborer  of  Bombay  could  leave  a town 
where  he  paid  double  for  grain  and  lived  in  fear  of  death,  and 
enroll  himself  amongst  the  “famine-stricken  ” in  the  country, 
exchanging  starvation  and  fear  for  hope  and  food. 

So  the  lower  classes  streamed  out  of  town,  travelling  by 
rail,  by  steamer,  and  by  bullock-cart.  The  last  was  the 
favorite  conveyance  when  there  was  a case  of  sickness  to 
conceal.  Stowing  the  plague-patient,  the  small  kit  of  the 
family,  and  wife  and  children  in  the  cart,  the  astute  native 
crept  out  of  town  by  night,  easily  escaping  the  vigilance, 
such  as  it  was,  of  the  police.  All  winter  long  these  carts 
went  south,  crawling  slowly  up  the  Ghats  through  Poona  to 
Satara,  Belgaum,  Kolhapur,  and  other  towns  of  the  Deccan. 
Others  sailed  away  in  private  craft.  To  many  it  was  merely 
a return  home.  For  a large  majority  of  the  laborers  of  Bom- 
bay do  not  regard  the  city  as  their  home.  They  come  from 
the  Deccan,  from  Gujarat,  from  Sind,  to  find  a livelihood  in 
Bombay,  but  “ home  ” to  them  is  where  their  fathers  lived  and 
they  themselves  were  born. 

At  the  end  of  the  second  week  of  October  the  formal 
announcement  was  made  that  the  plague  had  been  brought 
under  control.  Perhaps  it  was  so.  But  on  October  14  the 
officers  of  the  municipality,  who,  according  to  their  own  decla- 
ration, already  had  their  hand  upon  the  throat  of  the  foe, 
relaxed  their  hold,  and  in  an  extraordinary  memorandum 


THE  PLAGUE. 


287 


to  the  health  officer,  subsequently  confirmed  by  the  Act  of 
October  30,  decided,  because  of  protestations  on  the  part  of 
tenants  in  Mandvie  Ward  who  objected  to  compulsory  isolation, 
that  the  terms  of  the  Notification  ostensibly  compelling  segre- 
gation “ should  not  be  stringently  put  into  force,”  as  its  pro- 
visions wounded  the  religious  feelings  of  the  community,  and 
many  petitions  on  the  subject  had  been  sent  to  the  commis- 
sioner. In  fact,  inflammatory  placards  had  appeared  in  the 
city,  tending  to  excite  the  hostility  of  the  people  against  the 
government,  while  articles  of  the  same  sort  were  constantly 
appearing  in  the  public  native  press,  some  of  them  ascribed 
to  members  of  the  corporation.  Letters  on  the  subject 
appeared  daily  in  the  papers.  The  Act  of  October  30  de- 
clared that  “ no  case  where  proper  segregation  and  treatment 
can  be  carried  out  on  the  premises  will  be  removed  to  the 
Arthur  Road  Hospital,”  and  that  the  health  officer  had  been 
“ instructed  accordingly.”  Then  in  the  first  week  of  Novem- 
ber formal  instructions  were  issued  to  all  the  executive  officers 
of  the  municipality  not  to  execute  “stringently”  the  Notifi- 
cation of  October  6. 

With  the  order  not  to  interpret  this  Notification  stringently, 
that  is,  to  interpret  it  loosely,  there  was  an  immediate  cessa- 
tion of  all  attempts  to  segregate  in  the  hospital  or  isolate  at 
home.  There  was  no  case  where  (in  the  judgment  of  the 
family)  “proper  segregation”  could  not  be  effected  at  home. 
In  fact,  any  other  segregation  was  regarded  as  improper. 
Only  waifs  went  to  the  hospital.  So  ended  all  segregation, 
and  instantly  the  death-rate  increased. 

The  last  week  of  October  had  shown  the  result  of  segrega- 
tion quietly  discountenanced,  but  the  mortality  of  November 
and  December  showed  the  effect  of  its  formal  discontinuance. 
There  was  an  ostentatious  report  of  “ marked  improvement  ” 
recorded  on  October  24,  before  the  order  for  segregation  had 
been  really  rescinded.  Thereafter  there  was  a steady  increase 
in  the  deaths  from  plague. 

It  was  most  unfortunate,  in  view  of  the  imperative  necessity 
for  segregation,  that  just  this  measure  was  most  repugnant  to 


288 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


the  natives.  They  loathe  the  hospital.  To  eat  food  prepared 
by  foreigners  is  sinful.  Those  cared  for  by  outsiders  become 
out-castes.  The  natives  felt  themselves  outraged  at  every 
point.  Their  houses,  when  they  were  cleansed,  were  entered 
by  Mahars,  whose  touch  and  presence  are  contamination. 
They  themselves  were  carried  to  a strange  place  to  be  at- 
tended to  by  polluting  strangers.  The  ignorant  masses  knew 
nothing  of  sanitation,  but  they  knew  their  own  ancient  cus- 
toms and  laws.  To  them  all  the  decent  etiquette  of  life  and 
the  religion  of  their  social  intercourse  were  at  stake.  It  is 
not  too  much  to  say  that  the  members  of  the  chief  native 
communities  would  rather  have  seen  their  dearest  relations 
die  than  have  suffered  them  to  be  examined  by  inspectors  or 
taken  to  a hospital.  And  what  they  felt  for  others  they  felt 
for  themselves.  To  be  removed  from  those  who  alone  in 
their  estimation  could  with  propriety  attend  to  them  was  the 
passage  not  only  to  humiliation,  but  even  to  an  indignity 
worse  than  death.  And  they  proved  this  by  their  acts.  The 
patients  at  the  hospital,  though  they  knew  that  they  would 
starve  without  it,  spit  up  the  food  forced  upon  them.  Several 
attempted  to  kill  themselves.  But  it  was  in  the  case  of 
purdahs , the  “ curtained  ” women,  that  the  national  feeling  was 
most  outraged.  That  a stranger  should  touch  such  a woman, 
handle  her,  whose  face  even  no  man  save  her  husband  had 
been  allowed  to  see,  was  to  them  as  terrible  as  would  be  to  us 
the  extreme  affront  of  woman’s  modesty,  even  the  violation 
of  her  honor.  This  is,  in  fact,  the  only  analogy  that  represents 
correctly  the  sentiment  of  the  Indian  in  respect  of  medical 
examination.  When  inspection  was  insisted  on  without  due 
regard  to  his  feelings,  there  was  not  lacking  the  stern  act  that 
seemed  the  only  means  of  escape.  Thus  at  a later  date  one 
native,  whose  wife  was  publicly  inspected  on  the  northern  fron- 
tier (not  in  Bombay,  as  was  erroneously  stated  in  the  papers), 
deeming  no  relief  possible,  drew  his  knife  and  stabbed  her  to 
the  heart,  then  smote  the  inspector,  and  tried  to  kill  himself. 
We  may  sajq  “What  fanaticism!  What  bigotry!  ” but  it  is 
simply  the  persuasion  of  convention  long  fixed  as  a moral  law, 


THE  PLAGUE. 


289 


and  it  cannot  lightly  be  set  aside.  Between  sanitation  and 
the  purdah , however,  there  is  no  reason  to  find  only  a dilemma 
to  be  abandoned.  For  woman  physicians  would  answer  both 
the  requirements  of  modern  life  and  the  demands  of  the 
natives. 

There  is,  moreover,  but  one  way  to  meet  a plague  in  India, 
and  that  is  to  have  the  different  communities  segregated  in 
their  own  hospitals,  the  women  under  the  care  of  women 
alone.  Yet  in  Bombay  there  was  no  inspection  of  women  by 
women  at  this'  time ; there  was  but  one  general  hospital  for 
epidemic  diseases.  The  suggestion  had  indeed  been  made 
early  in  October  that  a special  hospital  should  be  built  in 
accordance  with  the  social  requirements  of  the  country ; but 
the  municipal  commissioner  refused  to  consider  it,  on  the 
ground  that  the  plague  was  already  under  control.  The  first 
private  hospitals  were  started,  that  is,  subscribed  for,  about 
the  first  of  November  ; but  the  city  authorities  had  nothing  to 
do  with  these. 

But  there  occurred  on  October  16  an  incident  which, 
strange  in  itself,  redoubled  in  its  effect  the  fear  of  the  native 
in  regard  to  segregation.  Before  this  he  expected  death  as 
the  alternative  to  being  fed  by  strangers ; but  now  he  feared 
lest  these  strangers  should  kill  him.  He  believed,  in  fact, 
that  he  was  carried  to  the  hospital  for  one  reason  only,  in 
order  that  he  might  be  tortured  and  cruelly  slain. 

At  the  south  end  of  the  Esplanade,  where  the  road  leading 
to  the  Apollo  Bunder1  meets  the  road  to  the  Secretariat,  there 
stands  a noble  statue  of  the  Queen,  gift  of  the  Gaekwar  of 
Baroda.  It  is  a familiar  sight  to  Europeans,  — a thing  to  be 
seen  by  the  stranger.  But  to  many  amongst  the  natives  it 
was  a sort  of  idol,  for  to  them  the  Queen  Empress  of  India 
herself  was  the  image  of  divinity,  a view  held  not  by  the 
uneducated  alone,  but  by  the  more  religious  of  the  half- 
educated  Hindus ; for  according  to  their  law-books  the  ruling 
power  is  the  visible  person  of  the  Divine,  whether  the  ruler 

1 Anglicized,  with  popular  etymology,  from  Palva  (Pala)  Bandar,  “ boat- 
harbor.” 


19 


290 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


be  native  or  foreign.  But  in  other  cases  also,  as  in  that  of 
great  men  to  whom  statues  are  erected,  the  uneducated, 
whether  Mohammedans  or  Hindus,  look  upon  the  statue  as  the 
effigy  of  a sacred  person,  and  sometimes  put  offerings  of  fruit 
and  flowers  before  it,  as  the  latter  do  on  the  shrines  of  gods, 
and  the  former  on  the  tombs  of  saints. 

It  was,  therefore,  not  only  with  a feeling  of  indignation  on 
the  part  of  the  Europeans,  but  with  a thrill  of  horror  as  at  a 
sacrilege  on  the  part  of  the  mass  of  the  population,  that  the 
inhabitants  of  the  city  learned  that  on  the  night  of  October  16 
some  miscreant  had  injured  and  disgraced  this  statue  of  the 
Queen.  In  the  night  it  had  been  daubed  with  tar  and  around 
the  neck  had  been  hung  a string  of  native  slippers,  adding 
deepest  insult  to  irreparable  injury.  It  was  supposed  at 
that  time  that  the  tarring  of  the  statue  was  the  outcome  of 
disaffection  created  by  the  sanitary  measures  just  adopted. 
The  perpetrator  of  the  deed  was  not  discovered,  but  the 
act  made  a deeper  impression  on  Bombay  than  the  muti- 
lation of  the  Hermes  once  did  on  Athens.  For  from  that 
time  on  strange  rumors  were  ever  afloat  in  regard  to  the 
object  of  segregation.  Before  long,  in  utter  oblivion  of  the 
fact  that  the  plague  had  been  established  in  the  city  before 
this  rascally  deed  was  done,  it  was  repeated  about,  and  firmly 
believed  by  the  many,  that  the  plague  had  been  sent  by  the 
Queen  Empress  in  revenge  for  the  insult  offered  to  her  statue, 
and  that  they  who  were  taken  to  the  hospital  were  taken 
there  to  suffer  her  divine  revenge.  In  accordance  with  ordi- 
nary Oriental  notions  in  regard  to  the  punishment  of  traitors 
en  masse,  the  native  population  conceived  out  of  their  own 
imao-inino-s  the  fearful  idea  that  the  Queen  had  demanded  to 
see  the  livers  of  thirty  thousand  inhabitants  of  Bombay  as 
the  sign  of  the  death  of  that  number  of  male  victims.  They 
said  that  patients  were  bled  to  death  in  the  hospital,  being 
hung  head  downwards  on  hooks ; that  their  livers  were  cut 
out  even  before  they  died,  and  that  their  bodies  were  hacked 
to  pieces  afterwards. 

Other  stories,  too,  were  widely  spread  about.  One  physi- 


THE  PLAGUE. 


291 


cian  reported  that  his  poor  patients  believed  that  the  doctors 
in  the  hospital  deliberately  poisoned  the  sick  to  prevent  the 
growth  of  the  plague.  That  this  tale  contradicted  the  theory 
of  revenge  made,  of  course,  no  difference  in  the  eagerness 
with  which  it  was  received  and  disseminated.  Then  it  be- 
came known  amongst  the  people  that  blackmail  was  practised 
by  some  badmashes , or  knaves,  who  in  the  guise  of  officials 
would  threaten  to  have  their  victim  taken  to  the  hospital 
unless  he  paid  them  cherry-merry  (that  is,  a bribe)  to  be 
silent.  The  common  people  immediately  came  to  the  conclu- 
sion that  every  inspector  who  tried  to  get  a patient  to  the 
hospital  was  a blackmailer  posing  as  an  officer.  Moreover, 
they  regarded  municipal  physicians,  especially  the  European, 
as  in  league  with  the  hospital  to  avenge  the  Queen,  and 
would  not  call  in  any  one  to  attend  the  sick. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  superstitions  connected  with 
the  hospital  was  the  revival  in  Bombay  of  the  ancient  and 
widespread  belief  in  momiai,  or  the  efficiency  of  blood  in 
welding  together  the  foundations  of  new  buildings.  The 
Hindus  were  wont  of  old  to  kill  and  bury  under  new  founda- 
tions of  bridges,  houses,  or  towns  a certain  number  of  victims, 
and  to  this  day  when  a bridge  is  building  in  parts  of  northern 
India,  as  was  reported  on  this  occasion  by  various  correspond- 
ents in  the  newspapers,  the  natives  keep  their  children  out  of 
sight  lest  their  bodies  be  used  as  momiai.  The  victims  are 
supposed  to  be  stewed,  the  top  of  the  brew  being  placed  on 
the  foundation.  This  is  mom-i-ai.  The  word  is  Persian, 
and  designated  originally  a kind  of  mineral  pitch  (“  wax  ”). 
In  Bombay  it  was  said  by  the  vulgar  that  the  hospital-patients 
were  used  to  make  momiai  for  bridges  washed  away  in  the 
last  monsoon. 

Besides  such  idle  tales,  the  belief  was  prevalent,  even 
amongst  tbe  half-educated  and  universally  amongst  the  igno- 
rant, that  unless  the  relatives  kept  constant  watch  of  their  sick, 
the  removal  of  the  latter  to  the  hospital  precluded  in  all  cases 
not  only  every  further  meeting,  but  also  all  further  informa- 
tion in  regard  to  the  patient.  And  in  some  cases  it  was  true 


292 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


that  the  patients  were  burned  or  buried  without  information 
being  given  to  the  family. 

Toward  the  end  of  October,  riots  began  to  be  as  frequent  as 
were  prayers  in  September. 

The  Arthur  Road  Hospital,  at  that  time  the  only  hospital 
for  plague-patients  in  the  city,  is  situated  not  far  from  a large 
mill,  somewhat  back  from  the  road,  in  a large  compound1 
(yard)  near  the  race-course,  about  half-way  between  Jacob’s 
Circle  and  De  Lisle  Road.  The  yard  is  protected  by  a wooden 
gate  at  the  entrance  to  the  compound,  and  by  glass-tipped 
masonry  walls.  On  the  afternoon  of  October  28,  a riotous  mob 
tried  to  force  an  entrance,  but  they  were  repulsed,  extra 
police  having  been  called  in,  and  on  this  occasion  no  damage 
was  done,  though  it  was  said  that  the  mob  consisted  of  at 
least  five  hundred  mill-hands.  These  mill-hands,  owing  to 
the  blackmail  practised  particularly  upon  them,  and  to  their 
organized  hate  of  the  hospital,  were  the  most  dangerous  ele- 
ment opposed  to  the  execution  of  sanitary  laws. 

The  next  morning  passed  quietly  enough,  but  at  noon  an- 
other crowd  assembled,  this  time  numbering  about  a thousand, 
and  demanded  the  reason  for  the  presence  of  the  yellow  hos- 
pital-van in  front  of  the  building.  It  was  subsequently  said  that 
the  hour  and  absurdity  of  the  pretext  for  violence  showed  that 
there  had  been  no  premeditation  on  the  part  of  the  rioters, 
who  were  mill-hands  coming  from  work  for  their  nooning. 
The  sight  of  the  hated  van  probably  acted  as  a spur  to  their 
sluggishly  ugly  temper,  and  the  appearance  of  the  vehicle, 
which  was  not  only  rough  and  uncomfortable,  but  also  of  a 
forlorn  aspect,  was  indeed  not  likely  to  allay  the  wrath  of  any 
one  pi’one  to  criticise  the  Health  Department.  For  it  was  the 
saddest-looking  cart  that  ever  carried  dying  men  to  their  death, 
and  the  complaint  that  in  the  case  of  weak  patients  its  jolting 
hastened  dissolution  was  not  altogether  unfounded.  The 
municipality  did  not  even  soften  its  roughness  with  rubber 
tires,  which  the  general  government,  when  at  a later  date 
it  took  control  of  everything,  immediately  did,  as  it  per- 

1 Anglicized  from  kompong,  enclosure. 


THE  PLAGUE. 


293 


formed  also  many  other  gentle  acts  calculated  to  soothe  in- 
stead of  irritate. 

But  the  cart  of  death  at  the  door  of  the  human  shambles, 
for  so  the  people  named  the  van  and  hospital  respectively, 
was  pretext  enough ; and  had  the  crowd  discovered  what 
was  actually  the  fact,  that  at  that  very  moment  the  van 
contained  the  body  of  one  of  their  own  number,  a mill- 
hand  stricken  with  plague,  there  would  doubtless  have 
been  much  more  trouble.  But  what  occurred  was  that 
their  attention  was  first  distracted  by  the  coming  of  another 
crowd  from  another  mill.  The  few  Sepoys  (police)  on*the 
scene,  scenting  danger,  attempted  to  keep  the  two  gangs 
from  joining  in  front  of  the  hospital.  But  in  vain,  and  the 
two  bands  next  became  one  mob.  But  they  did  not  injure  the 
Sepoys  very  much,  being  not  yet  fully  aroused,  and  having 
no  particular  quarrel  with  them,  their  own  countrymen.  So 
they  let  the  police  off  easily  with  a few  blows,  and  were 
crafty  enough  even  to  allow  them  to  arrest  one  or  two  in- 
dividuals. For  with  these  prisoners  the  Sepoys’  hands  were 
full,  and  they  could  do  no  more.  But  the  two  mobs,  ami- 
cably united,  now  rushed  at  the  gate-keeper,  and  by  stoning 
him  (they  were  otherwise  unarmed)  effected  an  entrance  into 
the  compound.  Now,  in  the  hospital  besides  the  patients 
there  were  only  the  few  native  assistants  allotted  by  the 
municipality  to  help  the  one  doctor  who  was  employed  to  do 
all  the  medical  work ; for  the  hospital  was  not  only  in  a very 
insanitary  condition,  but  it  was  miserably  equipped,  and  one 
doctor  was  all  the  staff.1 

The  one  doctor  was  not  present.  His  Hindu  assistants 
came  forward  bravely  enough,  but  being  greeted  with  the 
ferocious  cry,  “ We  will  kill  you  as  you  would  kill  us,”  they 
naturally  retreated,  some  to  the  dispensary  and  some  to  the 
back  yard.  But  they  acted  for  the  best  as  they  saw  it,  and 


1 The  mortality  of  plague-patients  at  the  hospital  when  most  crowded,  in 
December  and  January,  was  74.12  per  cent.,  as  against  65.50  per  cent.,  the 
average  when  not  crowded.  The  hospital  was  a disgrace  to  civilization  ; but 
till  February  it  was  not  even  subjected  to  criticism. 


294 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


characteristically  telephoned,  not  to  the  police,  as  any  but  a 
native  would  have  done,  but  to  their  chief,  the  health  officer, 
and  inquired  what  was  to  be  done  in  circumstances  so  un- 
usual, for  they  had  never  been  instructed  as  to  the  proper 
procedure  when  people  threatened  to  kill  them.  But  the 
health  officer  rang  up  the  police.  Meantime  the  mob  made 
an  assault  on  the  hospital  ; though,  being  cowardly,  they 
only  stoned  it.  Nevertheless,  as  there  was  a ridge  ventilator 
and  holes  in  the  roof  besides,  and  stones  fell  thick,  several 
patients  were  wounded,  and  in  the  end  one  man,  who  was  not 
very  ill  and  would  not  have  died  otherwise,  having  been 
struck  severely,  perished  of  the  wounds.  So  the  mob  hurt 
only  their  own  friends,  but  they  stole  whatever  they  could 
find,  till  armed  policemen,  and  amongst  them  forty  cavalry- 
men, arrived  before  they  could  do  further  damage. 

A direct  raid  on  the  police  took  place  the  same  day  on 
Tardeo  Road,  where  late  in  the  afternoon  some  five  hundred 
mill-hands  attacked  two  native  policemen.  The  latter  were 
supposed  to  be  municipal  officers  engaged  in  ferreting  out 
plague-cases  and  were  at  first  merely  accosted  angrily.  But 
when  they  explained  that  they  were  Sepoys  off  duty  and 
going  home,  the  mob  thought  they  were  trying  to  escape,  and 
set  upon  them.  An  inspector  interfered,  but  idly,  and  when 
one  of  the  mill-owners  came  to  the  rescue  and  hid  the  men  in 
a wooden  chowky  on  the  mill  premises,  the  crowd  grew  furi- 
ous and  attempted  to  kill  them.  By  a wise  prevision  on  the 
part  of  the  government  no  native  may  bear  arms  of  any  sort, 
so  that  even  a crowd  can  do  little  against  armed  men,  and 
usually  it  suffices  to  summon  only  a few  Sepoys  to  rout 
a mob  of  a thousand.  The  Sepoys  were  at  once  sum- 
moned. But  this  day  the  mill-hands  refused  to  disperse  when 
the  foot-police  came,  and  the  latter  attacked  the  rioters  with- 
out avail.  Then  the  mounted  police  arrived.  Yet  the  mob 
resisted  even  the  horse,  who  to  be  sure  went  at  them  rather 
gingerly  at  first.  But  at  last  the  troopers,  becoming  angry 
in  their  turn  (for  they  had  been  beaten  back  and  the  whole 
mob  was  stoning  them  and  two  of  their  number  were  badly 


THE  PLAGUE. 


295 


hurt  by  the  workmen),  rallying  again,  rode  the  malcontents 
down,  and  quickly  pacified  them  after  the  English  fashion. 

This  was  a lesson  which  it  is  a pity  was  not  generalized. 
But  apparently  the  English  were  shy  of  arousing  hostile 
action  and  dreaded  fanaticism.  They  had  seen  a little  of  it 
three  years  previously,  when  their  cannon  had  to  sweep  the 
streets  of  Bombay  and  kill  some  natives  in  a race-riot ; and 
besides,  there  are  some  who  still  talk  of  ’57  and  think  all  that 
may  come  back  again ; while  there  are  others  who  believe 
that  sympathy  is  better  than  force.  And  on  occasion  this  is 
so,  but  never  when  sympathy  may  be  mistaken  for  fear.  With 
a mob  and  with  fanatics  force  is  best  and  kindest  in  the  end. 
But  at  first  the  English  bungled  the  whole  business,  not  so 
much  as  to  mobs  as  in  regard  to  all  their  recalcitrant  subjects. 
For,  to  begin  with,  they  forced  the  natives  into  the  hospital 
without  sympathy  for  their  prejudices,  and  then  sympathized 
so  with  their  prejudices  that  they  used  no  force  to  get  them 
into  the  hospital,  and  this,  too,  after  the  natives  had  threat- 
ened. So  the  latter  naturally  concluded  that  bluster  would 
prevail,  as  it  did  for  some  time.  But  the  lower  classes  of 
Hindus,  both  real  Hindus  and  Mohammedans,  can  be  con- 
trolled easily  enough  if  they  are  convinced  that  their  rulers 
will  stand  no  nonsense,  as  was  shown  in  the  spring.  As  long 
as  they  think  otherwise  they  will  resist,  for  they  are  like 
children. 

The  situation  in  Bombay,  however,  was  extremely  difficult, 
and  while  it  is  easy  to  criticise,  it  was  harder  to  manage.  For 
though  the  officials  were  English  and  affairs  might  have  gone 
better  had  they  insisted  on  modern  methods,  yet  the  govern- 
ment itself  was  in  the  hands  of  the  natives,  who,  though  they 
were  educated  men,  did  nothing  in  an  enlightened  spirit,  but 
sided  with  the  ignorance  of  their  own  people,  openly  protest- 
ing and  secretly  instigating  resistance  against  every  civilized 
means  of  meeting  such  a crisis.  And  so  it  was  all  over  the 
country ; for  the  native  editors  also  tried  to  influence  opinion 
against  reform  and  against  the  English,  the  two  being  grouped 
together.  But  probably  there  was  more  than  bigotry  in  all 


296 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


this,  for  in  Poona  things  finally  reached  such  a pass  that 
the  plague  was  openly  utilized  for  a little  bubble  of  sedition. 
This  collapsed,  however,  at  the  first  prick  of  power,  though 
not  before  an  English  officer  had  been  murdered. 

Before  the  events  of  the  next  months  are  reviewed  it  will  be 
necessaiy  to  consider  a few  statistics.  By  the  end  of  October 
about  eighty  thousand  people  had  fled  the  city  and  thus 
slightly  diminished  the  total  population,  on  which  is  reckoned 
the  average  death-rate  of  preceding  years.  The  year  of  plague 
was  remarkably  free  from  other  infectious  diseases.  Few 
cholera  cases  or  small-pox  cases  and  no  epidemic  of  any  kind 
except  the  plague  occurred  during  the  whole  winter  in  the  city, 
though  small-pox  was  common  in  the  country  and  country 
cholera  cases  also  were  often  enough  reported.  It  will,  there- 
fore, be  an  entirely  reasonable  assumption  that  the  increase  in 
mortality  apart  from  that  due  to  the  plague  was  not  greater 
than  that  in  the  years  before,  especially  as  the  latter  was 
reckoned  on  a full  population  and  the  former  is  taken  from  a 
population  rapidly  diminishing.  In  the  autumn  of  1896  the 
total  mortality  for  a week  will  then  represent  the  average 
mortality  plus  the  plague  mortality,  if  allowance  be  made  for 
an  increase  of  about  two  thousand  deaths  for  the  whole  year 
due  to  other  causes  than  the  plague.  But  this  corrected  esti- 
mate is  likely  to  be  far  under  the  truth  when  the  population 
becomes  appreciably  diminished  and  may  in  fact  be  disregarded 
entirely  from  the  end  of  September. 

Some  such  calculation  as  this,  rough  though  it  be,  is  made 
necessary  not  only  because  of  the  fact  that  the  health  officer 
neglected  to  make  any  entries  of  deaths  from  plague  prior  to 
October  20,  but  also  because  of  the  incorrectness  of  the  official 
records.  Errors,  if  space  permitted,  could  easily  be  proved  by 
setting  the  official  returns  against  the  undoubted  statements 
of  physicians.  In  some  cases  it  would  be  seen  that  one  or  two 
physicians  reported  in  their  own  practice  alone  more  deaths 
from  plague  in  a week  than  the  Health  Office  under  the  con- 
trol of  the  commissioner  recognized  as  occurring  in  the  same 
week  through  the  whole  city.  The  only  figures  that  can  be 


THE  PLAGUE. 


297 


relied  upon  from  September  to  April  in  the  official  records  are 
those  giving  the  total  mortality  of  each  week. 

In  the  following  table  the  plague  mortality  is  obtained  by 
subtracting  the  “ average  weekly  ” mortality  from  that  of  the 
current  week  of  1896.  The  system  here  adopted  was  recog- 
nized in  Bombay  itself,  and  worked  out  by  the  Times  of  India, 
as  the  only  one  likely  to  give  a basis  for  the  investigation  of 
the  real  mortality  due  to  plague.  To  understand  the  table  it 
must  be  remembered  that  the  column  headed  Plague  Mortality 
records  the  number  of  deaths  above  the  average  of  the  previ- 
ous five  years,  for  the  corresponding  week.  Tins  plus  is 
about  the  plague  mortality  for  the  week  in  1896.  About  160 
deaths  may  be  subtracted  in  September  as  due  to  regular  in- 
crease in  mortality.  The  remarks  in  the  right-hand  column 
explain  the  figures,  which,  as  below,  are  those  of  the  Times. 


Week  ending 

Total  Mortality. 

Plague  Mortality.  Remarks. 

Sept.  8 

593 

62' 

“ 15 

618 

126 

“ 22 

647 

141 

No  segregation. 

“ 29 

720 

193 

Oct.  6 

791 

300, 

“ 13 

634 

136' 

> Segregation 

“ 20 

606 

129 

i enforced. 

“ 27 

698 

228  j 

Segregation 
almost  abandoned 

It  is  unnecessary  to  dilate  further  upon  the  incorrectness 
of  the  official  reports.  A careful  exposure  of  them  was  made 
by  the  editor  of  the  Times  of  India  from  week  to  week  as  they 
appeared,  and  that  journal  may  be  consulted  for  details.  In 
partial  excuse  for  the  Health  Department  it  may  be  said  that 
the  municipal  physicians  would  not  recognize  that  true  plague 
could  exist  without  the  bubo,  so  that  the  Department  unwit- 
tingly called  by  other  names  a large  number  of  cases  of  plague. 
But  other  cases  were  de  industria  given  incorrectly  by  the  offi- 
cials, by  the  native  physicians,  and  by  the  families  of  the  de- 
ceased. An  official  acknowledgment  that  the  municipal  reports 
were  not  trustworthy  was  made  by  the  municipal  commissioner 


298 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


and  the  police  officer,  before  the  standing  committee  of  the 
municipal  council,  on  December  30.  It  seems  otiose  to  take 
other  testimony.  In  regard  to  the  numbers  leaving  the  city, 
tables  carefully  compiled  by  the  Chamber  of  Commerce 
eventually  showed  that  in  November,  December,  and  January 
alone,  358,852  people  in  excess  of  the  usual  numbers  left  Bom- 
bay by  rail  and  steamer  alone.  Previous  to  the  publication  of 
these  tables  there  was  only  the  haphazard  statement  of  the 
municipal  commissioner  to  go  upon,  who  confidently  stated 
that  “ only  a few  thousands  ” had  left  the  city.  If  to  these 
three  hundred  and  fifty  thousands  be  added  the  unknown 
thousands  fleeing  in  September  and  October,  the  more  than  a 
thousand  a day  that  were  still  fleeing  in  February,  and  the 
uncounted  numbers  that  slipped  away  in  carts  and  private 
boats  all  through  the  winter,  the  commissioner’s  estimate  will 
appear  at  its  true  value.  There  is  unfortunately  no  confidence 
to  be  placed  in  any  statement  made  by  the  municipal  officers  of 
Bombay  in  regard  to  the  plague.  The  official  records  consist 
in  careless  errors  and  deliberate  falsifications.  Oddly  enough, 
this  appears  to  have  been  the  opinion  of  the  veiy  officer  who 
was  responsible  for  these  misleading  reports.  For  when  the 
plague  first  broke  out,  the  health  officer,  knowing  that  every 
one  was  asking  why  the  city  was  in  a condition  so  insanitary, 
and  being  eager  to  screen  himself,  formulated  a bill  of 
indictments  against  the  municipal  commissioner,  in  which  he 
charged  the  latter  with  neglecting  the  useful  advice  given 
him  heretofore,  and  alleged  that  he  himself,  the  health  officer, 
had  in  years  past  vainly  urged  several  points ; to  wit,  the  com- 
pletion of  the  drainage,  the  flushing  of  gullies,  and  the  non- 
acceptance  of  the  evidence  of  municipal  officers.  There  were 
other  minor  points,  but  none  so  important  as  the  last. 

The  beginning  of  November  was  looked  forward  to  very 
anxiously.  The  weather  was  normal,  but  the  plague,  which 
had  already  fastened  on  seventeen  different  districts,  from 
Kolaba  in  the  south  to  Byculla  in  the  north,  was  still  advanc- 
ing. Its  trend  had  been  west,  south,  and  north,  and  every  one 


THE  PLAGUE. 


299 


wondered  now  in  which  ward  it  would  appear  next,  for  by 
this  time  all  knew  that  the  Health  Department  were  helpless 
before  it,  either  to  control  it  where  it  was  or  to  prevent  its 
going  whither  it  would.  The  fact  also,  at  last  universally 
recognized,  that  the  official  reports  gave  no  real  knowledge, 
in  respect  either  of  the  death-rate  or  of  the  direction  taken  by 
the  plague,  caused  general  apprehension.  For  it  was  seen 
clearly  that  each  fresh  case  of  plague,  when  entered  as  old  age 
or  phthisis  or  remittent  fever,  if  brought  from  a newly  infected 
house  or  ward,  increased  the  danger  to  the  people  in  the  local- 
ity thus  infected,  in  proportion  as  they  were  left  ignorant  of 
the  truth.  The  municipal  corporation  were  known  to  be 
averse  to  sanitation;  the  municipal  commissioner  had  noti- 
fied the  town  that  his  former  Notification  was  not  meant  to 
be  taken  seriously ; and  the  natives  unanimously  opposed  any 
reconsideration  of  the  subject. 

But  these  were  not  the  only  grounds  for  fear.  For  it  was 
pretended  by  certain  of  the  natives  that  some  terrible  catas- 
trophe would  come  upon  the  city  during  the  feast  of  Divali, 
dlpall,  the  “ lamp-row-festival  ” in  honor  of  Vishnu’s  spouse. 
The  first  and  second  days  of  this  festival,  at  the  beginning 
of  November,  were  named  as  the  days  of  danger.  The 
prophecy  was  said  by  some  of  the  Hindu  and  Parsee  papers 
to  have  been  declared  by  Pundit  Guttoolalji;  while  the  so- 
called  Maharaja  or  Guru,  that  is,  the  pontiff,  of  the  Vallabh- 
acarya  sect  of  Vishnuites,  Devakinanda,  was  also  reported 
to  have  frightened  the  populace  by  foreseeing  the  coming 
disaster.  Both  these  statements  were  denied  by  the  persons 
implicated,  but  the  hint  of  harm  given  by  the  papers  was 
enough.  The  common  people  believed  that  some  untoward 
event,  even  greater  than  the  plague,  was  about  to  happen,  and 
that,  in  the  quaint  imagery  of  the  Orient,  “ the  Sirkar  (imperial 
government)  had  withdrawn  its  umbrella  from  over  their 
heads.” 

As  a foretaste  of  new  trouble,  three  great  conflagrations 
occurred  in  the  city.  They  were  regarded  as  ominous.  As 
Divali  drew  near,  the  crowds  of  terrified  natives  fleeing  from 


300 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


town  exceeded  every  precedent.  They  that  were  well  went, 
taking  with  them,  if  they  could,  their  sick ; and  many  plague- 
patients  easily  succeeded  in  escaping  the  notice  of  the  officials, 
for  the  rush  to  be  saved  was  greater  than  the  police  could 
oppose.  Every  train  was  full,  and  every  steamer;  private 
craft  and  bullock-carts  took  away  thousands. 

Ordinarily,  Divali  is  celebrated  with  brilliant  illuminations. 
Lamps  are  burning  everywhere,  fireworks  are  set  off,  the 
whole  town  is  a blaze  of  light.  This  year  it  was  to  be  a dark 
failure.  Fear  reigned.  One  fiction  fought  another.  Now 
the  story  was  rife  that  there  was  to  be  a general  slaughter  of 
the  native  inhabitants,  ordered  by  the  Sirkar  to  avenge  the 
Queen  for  the  insult  to  her  statue.  Again  the  Bazaar  (native 
town)  was  horrified  by  specific  prophecies  of  earthquakes  and 
universal  ruin  to  take  place  during  the  festival.  Scarcely  an 
hour  passed  that  some  fresh  rumor  did  not  terrify  the  Indian’s 
credulous  heart  as  he  heard  of  new  woes  coming.  Before  the 
fatal  days  arrived  (November  2 and  3 ),  in  fact,  before  the 
month  began,  half  the  population  had  left  town,  while  half 
of  them  that  remained  trembled  because  they  had  not  done 
likewise.  When  Divali  dawned  the  natives  hardly  dared  to 
breathe. 

But  the  days  of  harm  passed  harmlessly.  No  earthquake 
shook  the  island ; there  was  no  massacre  of  natives ; and  the 
children  of  the  Orient  breathed  again.  Half  of  them  that  had 
fled  without  preparation  in  the  final  panic  returned  within 
a week  and  packed  their  things  together,  encouraged,  but 
ready  to  flee  again  at  a moment’s  warning. 

The  death-rate  increased  steadily.  About  a quarter  of  the 
population  was  gone  from  town.  Silent  witnesses  to  this 
fact  were  the  empty  houses,  empty  streets,  wellnigh  empty 
wards.  Shops  began  to  be  closed  everywhere ; the  busiest  lanes 
were  still.  An  irregular  exodus  began  again.  Long  proces- 
sions passed  through  the  streets.  They  consisted  of  refugees 
escaping  in  a slow  unbroken  stream.  Most  of  them  were  un- 
able to  read  English;  they  did  not  know  that  the  official 
reports  were  most  encouraging.  They  knew  only  that  their 


THE  PLAGUE. 


301 


friends  and  neighbors  were  dying  as  they  had  never  died 
before,  and  that  plague  ruled  the  town.  So  passed  Novem- 
ber’s dreary  days. 

But  Aland  vie  Ward  was  now  free  of  disease.  No  death 
had  occurred  since  November  21.  The  health  officer  said 
that  he  had  got  control  of  that  district.  Asa  matter  of  fact 
the  plague  had  killed  those  whom  it  had  caught  and  the  rest 
of  the  inhabitants  had  run  away.  The  whole  ward  was 
practically  deserted.  There  was  nothing  more  there  for  the 
plague  and  it  went  elsewhere. 

The  heaviest  mortality  in  the  city  was  among  the  Mahars 
first  (the  cleansers  of  filth),  and  then  the  Jains,  who  now  died 
at  a greater  rate  than  did  the  Mohammedans.  Till  the  end 
of  January  the  mortality  among  the  Mohammedans  remained 
higher  than  among  the  Hindus. 

The  city  corporation,  who  were  pleased  to  shift  upon  the 
health  officer  the  blame  for  apathy  in  the  past  and  ignorance 
in  the  present,  signalized  their  appreciation  of  the  gravity  of 
the  situation  by  creating  toward  the  end  of  November  eight 
new  health  officers.  But  they  did  no  good,  for  they  were  sub- 
ordinates. The  hospital  at  this  time  was  strengthened  by  the 
appointment  of  some  new  assistants.  Six  assistant  surgeons 
were  also  appointed.  A sub-committee  already  had  in  hand 
the  re-organization  of  the  Health  Department,  but  the  cor- 
poration did  not  wait  for  its  report,  for  in  this  week  the 
mortality  was  760,  or  314  above  the  average.  By  this  time 
most  of  the  native  medical  men  had  run  away.  The  native 
members  of  the  corporation  also  ran  away  to  the  hills  for 
safety,  returning  to  town  only  to  attend  the  meetings.  The 
loquacious  leaders  of  the  people,  the  orators  against  segre- 
gation, took  to  flight,  too.  Holding  the  fort  was  left  to  the 
English.  November’s  record  is  as  follows : 


Week  ending 


Total  Mortality. 
668 
623 
704 
760 


Plague  Mortality. 

225 

174 

242 

314 


Nov.  3 
“ 10 
“ 17 

“ 24 


302 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


To  explain  the  higher  death-rate,  the  Health  Department, 
amongst  other  curiosities  of  statistics,  gave  127  deaths  in  the 
week  ending  November  24  to  phthisis  alone,  double  the 
usual  amount,  though  reputable  doctors  knew  of  no  increase 
in  that  disease.  According  to  the  same  official  authority,  161, 
more  than  double  the  average,  died  of  remittent  fever  in  the 
week  ending  November  17,  and  just  161  in  the  next  week. 
This  monotonous  disease  had  already  carried  off  107  people 
in  the  week  ending  November  3,  and  just  107  again  in  the 
week  ending  November  10.  But,  as  I have  said,  epidemic 
diseases  other  than  the  plague  were  rarer  than  usual.  The 
plague  seemed  to  absorb  every  other  illness.  The  fewer 
deaths  in  the  week  after  Divali  are  due  to  the  tumult  of  exodus 
at  the  last  minute  and  the  slow  return  in  the  next  few  days 
of  half  those  who  had  gone.  The  figures  represent  a sudden 
drop  in  the  population. 

Though  segregation  was  officially  abolished,  inspection 
was  not.  Concealment  of  cases  was  still  regularly  practised. 
No  punishment  rewarded  the  concealer  when  the  act  was 
discovered. 

By  the  beginning  of  the  next  month  there  were  about  forty- 
five  deaths  a day  from  plague.  One  physician  alone  treated 
one  hundred  cases  in  the  first  week  of  winter. 

December  was  a month  of  terror.  In  the  first  week  the 
mortality  was  the  greatest  ever  known  in  the  city,  exceeding 
even  that  of  any  week  of  the  great  famine  of  1877.  From 
772  deaths  (plague  mortality,  315,  the  record  for  the  week 
ending  December  1),  the  mortality  rose  to  1051,  an  increase 
of  279  in  one  week,  and  591  above  the  average  taken  on 
a full  population.  Even  official  returns  recorded  55  deaths 
in  one  day  from  bubonic  fever.  The  daily  average  due 
to  plague  was  really  about  84.  An  appeal  was  made  that 
segregation  might  be  tried  again,  but  the  municipal  commis- 
sion, despite  signs  of  yielding  on  the  part  of  some  of  the 
natives,  made  no  effort  to  re-introduce  the  measure.  Kamati- 
pur,  which  with  its  30,000  inhabitants  had  now  taken  the 
place  of  Mandvie  as  the  headquarters  of  the  Great  Death, 


THE  PLAGUE. 


303 


more  than  quadrupled  its  mortality  in  eight  days,  and  soon 
there  were  few  houses  in  the  whole  district  that  had  not  the 
red  ring  of  death  upon  their  front.  The  commissioner  in 
this  month  had  ordered  the  red  ring  to  be  painted  upon  every 
house  where  a death  from  plague  occurred.  Some  of  the 
houses  had  half  a dozen  such  rings.  Later  on  some  had 
many  more  than  this.  One  had  more  than  thirty.  Deaths 
from  other  causes  were  marked  with  a cross.  For  every 
cross  appeared  a dozen  rings. 

By  the  middle  of  the  month,  the  different  sects  of  Jains, 
Parsees,  Hindus,  and  Mohammedans,  had  committees  in  hand 
to  see  to  the  erection  of  special  sectarian  hospitals,  which  the 
more  enlightened  leaders  of  the  different  communities  had  per- 
suaded them  to  agree  to  as  a substitute  for  the  hated  Arthur 
Road  Hospital.  The  Jain  hospital  was  ready  first,  early  in 
the  month.  The  Parsee  hospital  was  formally  opened  on 
December  18.  Some  of  these  hospitals,  however,  were  long 
in  building  and  all  were  long  in  filling,  for  the  natives  did  not 
like  them.  That  of  the  Khojas  was  not  ready  till  March ; 
that  of  the  Bhatias  was  not  even  begun  till  then.  These 
hospitals,  though  that  of  the  Parsees  was  better  built  and  well 
appointed,  were  usually  cheap  buildings  of  mats  and  bamboo. 
Voluntary  segregation  was  now  recommended  even  by  the 
natives,  though  at  a meeting  held  December  11  they  still  pro- 
tested against  enforced  segregation.  Voluntary  segregation 
was,  in  point  of  fact,  all  that  was  necessary,  but  the  trouble 
was  that  it  could  not  be  enforced!  Very  few  went  into 
the  “ voluntary  ” hospitals.  The  Governor  placed  at  the  dis- 
posal of  the  municipality  the  park  connected  with  the  Govern- 
ment House  at  Parel  for  use  as  a place  to  build  temporary 
hospitals;  and  subsequently  an  annex  to  the  Arthur  Road 
Hospital  was  erected  there.  But  neither  the  commissioner 
nor  the  health  officer  liked  these  voluntary  hospitals.  They 
sniffed  at  Parel  park  and  said  it  was  “ insanitary.”  The  cor- 
poration did  nothing  to  encourage  even  voluntary  segregation. 
In  all  this  time  of  bitter  distress  the  native  members  did  not 
raise  one  finger  to  aid  or  instruct  their  fellow-citizens.  Some 


304 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


were  apathetic;  some  were  intolerant  of  sanitary  reform. 
They  met  to  jest  and  denounce  sanitation.  Not  a single  radical 
measure  was  inaugurated  by  them  during  the  whole  course 
of  the  winter. 

The  commissioners  on  December  16  asked  for  and,  of  course, 
obtained  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  rupees  in  addition 
to  the  original  one  hundred  thousand  granted  on  October  5. 
The  Health  Department  still  continued  to  oppose  segregation, 
flush  drains,  and  shovel  up  the  filth  of  the  last  ten  years. 
The  corporation  were  at  length  induced  to  pass  a resolution, 
December  17,  to  remove  the  town  sweepings  to  Chimbore, 
instead  of  emptying  them  into  the  harbor.  But  the  corpora- 
tion did  no  more.  They  could  not,  at  any  rate,  decide  how 
to  effect  this  reform,  and,  in  fact,  never  did  anything  more 
about  it  till  months  afterwards,  when  the  Governor  told  them 
that  they  must. 

The  plague  struck  further  north.  Localities  hitherto  un- 
affected now  fell  into  its  power.  Outside  of  the  city,  sundry 
new  towns  of  the  Presidency  reported  that  plague  had  ap- 
peared. To  the  south,  Poona,  the  rest  of  the  Deccan,  and 
even  the  Mysore  territory  beyond  it;  to  the  north,  Thana, 
Broach,  Ahmedabad,  Karachi,  — were  now  infected.  In  Goa 
the  authorities  decreed  as  a sanitary  measure  that  the  bodies 
of  all  who  had  died  of  plague  should  be  burned,  not  buried, 
whether  Hindus,  Mohammedans,  Jews,  or  Christians.1  The 
Patriarch  Archbishop  thundered  against  the  law  as  unchris- 
tian, and  the  Mohammedan  howled.  But  the  law  stood  for  a 
time  and  plague  obtained  no  great  hold  there,  till  the  Arch- 
bishop’s thunder  at  last  frightened  the  authorities.  They 
yielded  the  point.  Then  the  plague  increased  in  Goa. 

This  question  touched  Bombay  also.  Intramural  graves, 
often  not  covered  with  earth  enough  to  prevent  the  jackal’s 
robbery,  sometimes  but  a few  inches  deep,  seldom  more  than 


1 Only  the  Hindus,  and  not  all  of  them,  burn  their  dead.  The  Parsees 
expose  them  on  the  Towers.  Some  poor  Hindus  bury  the  dead,  as  do  the 
Mohammedans.  Cremation  is  often  waived  in  the  case  of  venerated  Hindus, 
Swamis  and  the  like,  and  their  tombs  become  shrines. 


THE  PLAGUE. 


305 


two  and  a half  feet,  thousands  of  such  graves,  corpses  buried 
one  on  top  of  another,  in  graveyards  crowded,  and  to  a great 
extent  over-crowded,  with  the  corpses  of  plague-stricken 
Mohammedans,  in  short,  a trench  of  shallow  graves  to  the 
windward  of  the  city  from  its  middle  to  its  northern  limit,  — 
such  was  the  state  of  affairs  in  Bombay.  For  not  only  were 
there  two  such  burying-grounds,  one  at  Grant  Road  and  one 
on  the  Queen’s  Road,  but  the  low-caste  Hindus  that  bury 
their  dead  had  a tliird  intramural  ground  at  Haines  Road. 
The  Christianized  Hindus,  chiefly  ignorant  fishermen,  had  still 
a fourth,  though  undetermined  ground  ; for  they  dug  shallow 
pits  near  their  houses  and  buried  their  dead  there.  For  thirty 
years  the  closing  of  the  Mohammedan  grounds  had  been  de- 
manded in  the  interest  of  public  health.  The  health  officer 
himself  said  he  thought  that  they  “had  been  filled  perhaps 
twenty  times.”  At  a later  date,  January  7,  reference  was 
made  at  a meeting  of  the  corporation  to  graves  where  corpses 
were  dug  up  and  new  interments  made  in  rapid  succession. 
The  question  of  closing  these  grounds  was  one  very  vital  to 
the  interest  of  the  city.  There  actually  was  a new  ground 
which  had  been  reserved  for  the  Mohammedans  for  three  years 
at  Tank  Bunder,  but  it  was  not  made  ready  till  late  in  January. 
Then  the  Mohammedans  were  politely  asked  to  use  it,  but  they 
angrily  refused  to  do  so.  It  was  not  till  April  that  the  ground 
at  Grant  Road  was  closed,  but  this  was  not  done  by  the  muni- 
cipality. Even  the  crematory  grounds  were  in  bad  condition. 
It  was  said  that  bodies  lay  unburned  for  days  at  Sonapur 
(December  10).  The  same  statement  was  made  afterwards  in 
regard  to  the  Worli  ground,  but  the  health  officer  denied  it. 

It  was  also  said  that  the  vultures  of  the  Dakhmas  or 
Towers  of  Silence,  owing  to  the  surplus  of  Parsee  food  given 
them  in  December,  sometimes  refused  to  do  their  office.  These 
Towers  rise  like  huge  oil-tanks  above  Malabar  Hill,  hideous 
themselves  but  set  in  luxuriant  beauty  of  scenery.  The  first, 
Kapiskhan’s,  can  accommodate  237  bodies,  and  is  used  mainly 
by  the  Shenshai  Parsees.  The  second,  Banaji’s,  can  accom- 
modate as  many  more,  and  is  used  mainly  by  the  Iranees  and 

20 


306 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


Ivadimi  Parsees,  though  it  is  open  to  the  Shenshai  also.  The 
two  Towers  of  Anjuman  and  Manekji  Sheth  will  hold  262 
and  141  bodies,  respectively ; while  the  Modi’s  Tower  is  for 
the  family  of  the  founder  only.1  Most  of  the  bodies  are 
devoured  on  Kapiskhan’s  Towers.  According  to  the  report 
published  at  the  time  in  a local  paper,  there  are  between 
three  and  four  hundred  vultures,  but  many  of  them  were 
busy  among  the  shallow  graves  in  the  neighborhood  and  per- 
haps for  this  reason  none  was  so  voracious  as  usual.  Whether 
any  dead  bodies  actually  remained  uneaten  on  the  Towers 
cannot  be  known.  The  report  was  denied  by  the  Parsee 
priests,  and  only  Parsees  are  admitted  to  the  Towers. 

There  was  at  this  time  and  afterwards  no  little  distress  on 
account  of  the  increasing  lack  both  of  those  whose  business  it 
is  to  bear  the  corpses  to  the  crematory  or  cemetery,  and  of 
those  who  there  receive  them.  And  in  this  distress  the  Parsees 
shared,  for  though  they  had  enough  nasasalars,  who  carry  the 
corpses  into  the  Towers,  yet  there  were  not  enough  khandins, 
who  bring  them  up  to  the  Towers.  Much  unhappiness  was 
caused  by  this,  as  well  as  by  the  absence  of  other  requisites  in 
the  final  care  for  the  deceased,  and  even  by  the  cost  of  fuel 
wherewith  to  burn  the  dead.  F or  everything  was  dearer  than 
usual,  owing  to  the  famine  and  the  lack  of  laborers,  and  so 
great  an  amount  of  wood  was  required  for  the  consumption  of 
so  many  bodies  that  the  price  rose,  and  the  poor  had  often  to 
pay  their  last  coppers  to  get  sufficient  fuel  for  their  need.  As 
an  indication  of  the  scarcity  that  resulted  from  extra  demand, 
but  also  as  a proof  of  the  great  number  that  died,  one  religious 
community  alone  used  seven  and  a half  times  as  much  fuel 
per  week  for  burning  their  dead  as  they  do  ordinarily  ; nor  was 
it,  as  compared  with  others,  a community  very  heavily  smit- 
ten by  the  plague.  Moreover,  this  was  when  less  fuel  than 
usual  was  burned  for  any  one  funeral,  since  even  the  rich 
economized  and  the  poor  used  only  as  much  as  decency 

1 This  was  the  first  Tower  built  in  the  city,  in  1670.  Two  more  are  men- 
tioned by  Dr.  Da  Cunha,  Origin  of  Bombay,  p.  299,  where  Kapiskhan  appears 
as  Kapuskao,  and  Anjuman’s  Tower  bears  a different  name. 


THE  PLAGUE. 


307 


required,  and  when  the  city  was  emptied  of  many  of  its 
inhabitants. 

For  between  the  middle  of  December  and  its  awful  close 
some  third  of  the  natives  had  again  left  town.  In  many  ways 
this  was  the  most  painful  as  well  as  the  most  exciting  period 
in  the  progress  of  the  plague.  For  the  mortality  leaped  up 
higher  and  higher  as  the  colder  weather  strengthened  the 
malady,  and  all  classes  were  fleeing,  the  wealthy  with  the  poor. 
The  latter  packed  their  little  bundles,  and  with  their  goods  on 
their  head  and  their  children  in  their  arms  went  out  for  the 
last  time,  some,  already  infected,  to  die  of  the  plague,  some  to 
subsist  on  charity,  some  to  starve,  and  some  to  live  on  hoarded 
or  borrowed  money,  till  spring  and  the  decline  of  the  disease 
moved  them  to  return.  But  some,  and  amongst  them  even 
former  policemen  of  the  town,  became  robbers  and  added  to 
the  terrors  of  the  year  of  plague  and  famine  by  swelling  the 
bands  of  dacoits,  brigands,  who,  during  this  winter  especially, 
ravaged  the  country  from  Delhi  to  Hyderabad. 

But  the  wealthy  natives  who  hitherto  had  Angered  (because 
they  feared  to  leave  their  houses  and  goods  in  a city  so  ham- 
pered and  undone),  now  fearing  death  more  as  it  stood  more 
imminent,  sent  their  valuables  to  the  bank  and  hired  houses 
in  the  suburbs,  Andheri  and  Thana,  and  in  other  more  distant 
places  up  and  down  the  coast  or  in  the  hill-country,  whither 
they  removed  their  families,  servants,  furniture,  and  horses, 
settling  down  for  what  length  of  time  the  plague  should  re- 
main. And  the  vaults  of  the  banks  became  so  crowded  with 
safes  and  boxes  that  no  more  goods  could  be  received. 

By  Christmas  time  every  suburb  about  Bombay  was  over- 
filled, and  there  was  not  a house  in  the  Konkan  to  be  had  for 
quintuple  its  ordinary  rent.  Then  no  houses  remained  to  be 
rented  for  any  money,  unless  one  fugitive  bought  another  off 
who  had  rented  an  asylum  before  him,  and  he  gave  forty-fold 
the  rent  given  by  the  former  tenant.  Many  of  the  poor  could 
find  no  refuge  at  all.  Even  sleeping-room  on  a veranda  in  a 
suburb  that  was  deemed  healthy  cost  more  for  a night  than  a 
poor  man  earned  in  a week. 


308 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


The  last  week  of  the  old  year  (but  chiefly  the  first  month 
of  the  new)  was  marked  by  the  spread  of  panic  among  the 
mill-hands,  who,  though  contumelious  and  aggressive  in 
respect  of  compulsory  segregation,  had  in  some  instances  con- 
sented to  make  use  of  safety  camps  of  tents  or  cadjan  (huts  of 
bamboo  and  matting).  The  mills,  being  well  ventilated,  large, 
and  kept  in  sanitary  order,  were  particularly  free  from  plague, 
and  no  special  panic  had  hitherto  arisen,  as  there  had  been  no 
unusual  number  of  deaths  amongst  the  hands.  Yet  they  re- 
mained not  so  much  because  they  were  not  afraid  as  because 
they  could  not  get  their  money.  For  it  is  the  practice  at  all 
times  to  hold  back  the  pay  of  the  mill-hands  for  a whole  month, 
in  order  to  ensure  their  remaining  till  substitutes  can  be  got. 
13  ut  in  this  year,  in  view  of  the  fact  that  operatives  who  did 
not  wish  to  die  of  the  plague  might  be  tempted  to  sacrifice 
their  month’s  pay  and  leave  without  warning,  the  overseers 
kept  back  the  pay  for  two  whole  months.  And  the  same  trick 
was  played  on  the  hotel  servants  also  by  their  masters.  But 
the  mill-hand  thus  treated  was  in  a very  bad  way.  For  ordi- 
narily he  fives  without  any  store  of  money,  but  the  Marwaris,1 
or  money-lenders,  and  certain  usurious  grain-dealers  called 
shroffs,  knowing  him  and  the  circumstances,  usually  lend 
him  grain  to  eat  and  even  advance  him  small  sums  as  he  needs 
from  day  to  day.  And  at  the  end  of  the  month  their  agent  is 
present  at  the  gate  when  the  man  is  paid  and  takes  from  him 
what  is  owing,  and  the  interest,  before  he  can  spend  it.  But 
now  the  shroffs  and  Marwaris  had  closed  their  shops  and  fled 
from  the  city,  and  the  poor  mill-hand  whose  pay  was  not  paid 
could  find  no  one  to  lend  him  grain  or  money,  for  even  regular 
usurers  would  not  lend  to  one  whose  wage  was  held  back  for 
so  long,  since  he  could  give  no  security  and  might  die  of 
plague  the  next  day. 

The  mill-hands,  therefore,  agitated  for  daily  pay,  or  at  least 
for  pay  at  the  end  of  the  month.  One  mill  actually  paid  at 
the  end  of  a month,  but  the  next  day  it  came  near  to  closing, 

1 Literally,  “ people  of  Marwar,”  but  used  as  a common  noun  to  designate 
small  money-lenders. 


THE  PLAGUE. 


309 


for  most  of  the  hands,  to  escape  plague  and  debts,  had  de- 
camped in  the  night.  But  the  other  mills  refused.  Moreover, 
the  native  managers  themselves  fled  from  the  plague,  and  this 
added  discouragement  and  new  fear  to  the  anger  of  the  work- 
men, so  that  some  fled,  giving  up  all  their  pay,  and  some, 
thinking  it  as  well  to  die  of  plague  as  of  starvation,  remained 
to  agitate  for  their  claim  of  daily  paid  wage.  By  the  end  of 
the  first  week  of  January,  forty  thousand  spindles  had  stopped, 
and  it  seemed  probable  that  in  a few  days  more  a quarter  of  a 
million  skilled  workmen  would  join  those  who  had  fled,  and 
like  the  latter  be  begging  for  their  life,  or  working  for  two 
annas  a day  as  charity-laborers  on  relief-works  in  the  country. 
The  mill-owners,  however,  eventually  managed  to  keep  a large 
number  of  them,  for  though  the  former  mutually  agreed  (Jan- 
uary 26)  not  to  yield  to  the  men’s  demands,  yet  as  each  owner 
was  more  willing  to  cut  the  others’  throats  and  save  himself 
than  abide  by  his  pledge,  sundry  of  them  secretly  yielded  and 
gave  daily  pay.  But  this  resulted  only  in  the  rapid  exchange  of 
good  workmen  for  bad,  since  in  the  increasing  panic  the  old 
hand  would  often  flee  at  the  day’s  end  and  some  raw  workman 
would  be  put  in  his  place  to  bungle  and  break.  But  enough 
remained  to  avert  a general  closing  of  the  mills,  though  the 
agitation  of  the  men  caused  a great  deal  of  trouble.  The 
whole  matter,  however,  belongs  rather  to  January,  though 
the  agitation  began  in  December.  The  rights  of  it  seemed  to 
lie  with  the  men,  though,  indeed,  to  grant  the  demands  made 
by  them  would  doubtless  have  resulted  badly  for  the  mills. 
But  if  the  owners,  considering  the  great  scarcity,  had  them- 
selves lent  food  or  money  to  the  workmen  and  raised  their  pay 
a little,  the  latter  would  probably  have  remained.  But  the 
owners  and  stockholders  appeared  to  think  differently. 

The  end  of  December,  when  plague  and  famine  ruled  the 
town,  was  to  many  the  breaking  point  of  an  endurance  long 
strained  but  firm  till  then.  In  the  case  of  countless  artisans  and 
domestic  servants,  the  usurer  now  ruled  them  as  the  viceroy  of 
famine.  For  in  India,  servants  find  themselves,  and  the  work- 
men, all  living  from  hand  to  mouth,  suffer  most  on  a rise  of 


310 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


prices  and  are  driven  to  the  usurer.  But  they  have  to  pay  him 
180  per  cent,  interest  and  in  reality  more,  for  after  a little  time 
they  are  unable  to  reckon  this  (compound)  interest  and  must 
take  his  word  for  what  is  due  to  him.  But  when  once  the 
usurer  has  the  man  he  never  lets  him  go,  and  even  in  ordinary 
years  most  of  the  servants  and  workmen,  both  in  town  and 
country,  are  in  this  bondage  (I  inquired  particularly  and  found 
this  to  be  the  case  everywhere).  Whence  it  happens  that  all 
the  poor  man  gets  he  gives  to  the  usurer,  save  what  little  is 
requisite  for  him  to  live  on  till  another  pay-day.  But  in  this 
year,  with  the  shroffs  gone,  who  are  concealed  usurers,  it  was 
still  worse,  since  the  poor  were  so  completely  in  the  hands  of 
the  money-lender  that  they  could  not  live  without  him ; and  there 
was  great  distress  amongst  all  the  wage-earners.  Then,  too, 
because  their  shroffs  had  fled,  even  the  halalkhores  early  in 
January  threatened  to  go  on  a strike,  but  the  intervention  of 
their  muccadums  — that  is,  the  bosses  of  the  gangs  of  work- 
men — prevented  tins  calamity,  which  would  have  been  serious, 
for  had  the  halalkhores  left  town  there  would  have  been  none 
to  cleanse  it. 

Before  the  year  ended,  Bombay  was  in  all  respects  a most 
woful  city.  Little  discomforts  filled  up  the  crevices  between 
big  sorrows  to  make  one  solid  block  of  misery.  The  wheels 
of  every  business  were  clogged.  All  labor  was  at  a high 
premium,  and  to  get  any  work  done  was  difficult.  Domestic 
servants  left  without  warning ; in  the  hotels  the  “ boys  ” 1 
begged  for  wages  long  due  which  they  could  not  get,  and 
then  gave  up  the  struggle  in  despair.  The  coolies  and  carters 
were  few ; the  barbers  and  the  dhobis  or  washermen  were 
hard  to  find,  and  the  latter  were  not  to  be  depended  on  even 
when  found,  for  they  would  die  on  the  clothes  they  had  taken 
to  wash,  and  both  linen  and  dhobi  would  be  burned.  The 
regular  purveyors  of  the  city,  — milkmen,  butchers,  bakers,  and 
the  like,  — had  run  away  in  large  numbers  ; industries  were 
stopped  ; trade  was  almost  at  a standstill.  The  cloth-shops  and 
grocery-shops  of  the  vanias  were  bare  storehouses ; the  piece- 

1 Anglicized  from  bhai,  “brother”  (fellow,  and  so  servant). 


THE  PLAGUE. 


311 


goods  merchants  had  practically  shut  up.  The  shops  of  the 
yarn-merchants,  of  the  metal-merchants,  of  the  merchants  of 
brocade,  of  silk,  of  goldware  and  silverware,  stood  empty  all 
day.  The  booksellers  of  the  Kalbadevi  Road  put  up  their 
shutters.  None  bought  what  was  not  absolutely  requisite. 
The  laughing  bazaars  were  now  like  cemeteries.  Distress 
came  with  especial  hardness  upon  the  clever  workmen,  whose 
wares  attract  both  the  fashion  of  Bombay  and  the  taste  of 
tourists.  The  gay  world  bought  no  gewgaws  ; a few  tourists 
had  indeed  come,  but  almost  none  remained.  Most  of  them 
had  fled  from  the  country;  nearly  all  were  gone  to  safer 
towns  at  least.  Momba  Devi1  protected  her  children  no 
more,  and  the  workers  in  brass  and  copper  had  naught  to  do. 
The  carvers  of  sandal-wood,  of  blackwood,  and  of  ivory,  the 
fine  craftsmen  in  gold  and  silver,  all  these  could  but  starve 
or  flee. 

Now  too  began  the  on-fall  of  “ quick  ” cases  of  plague,  such 
as  obtained  in  Karachi  when  the  disease  first  broke  out  there. 
The  hale  laborer  suddenly  died  at  his  work ; the  runner 
dropped  upon  the  street ; the  servant  in  good  health  an  hour 
before  expired  at  his  master’s  side.  The  policeman  fell  dead 
on  the  corner  ; the  bearer  of  the  corpse  became  a corpse. 

The  number  of  funerals  was  dreadful  to  witness.  They 
never  ceased.  To  burial  or  to  fire,  the  dead  were  borne  every 
hour,  and  these  swift  journeys  (for  the  frightened  bearers  ran 
with  their  load)  continued  day  after  day  for  weeks  together. 
In  the  second  week  of  January  an  observer  saw  enter  one 
graveyard  no  less  than  a funeral  a minute,  and  the  crowded 
pyres  of  the  dead  were  always  burning. 

1 The  Mother  Goddess  of  Bombay  (Momba),  whose  title  of  Great  still  re- 
mains in  the  name  of  the  district  Mahim.  Momba  Devi  district  in  the  present 
town  includes  the  copper  bazaar.  Da  Cunha  says  the  name  of  the  town  was 
spelled  both  as  Mombaym  and  Bombaym.  Momba  was  a Koli  (Dravidian) 
autochthonous  divinity.  Her  old  temple  on  the  Esplanade  has  been  razed.  The 
modern  one  has  shrines  to  <?iva  and  other  (Aryan)  deities,  as  well  as  to  Momba- 
devi.  Mahim,  however,  was  afterwards  settled  by  the  Prabhus  of  Gujarat,  and 
their  Aryan  temple  was  sacred  to  Prabhadevi.  But  her  present  abode  is  in  turn 
shared  by  older  deities,  ^italadevi  and  Khokaladevi.  the  goddesses  of  small- 
pox and  of  cough,  respectively. 


312 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


It  was  not  strange  that  in  the  excitement  weird  thoughts  and 
fancies  obsessed  even  the  soberer  citizens.  Where  segrega- 
tion-camps were  the  only  hope  of  safety,  faddists  among  the 
English  prevented  unanimity  by  raising  one  objection  after 
another  and  proposing  all  sorts  of  absurd  panaceas.  Some 
queried,  and  it  was  gravely  debated,  whether  the  whole  prin- 
ciple of  segregation,  as  hitherto  understood,  should  not  be 
inverted.  “ Segregate  the  healthy,”  they  cried  ; “ let  the  sick 
stay  where  they  are.  Isolate  all  the  hale  members  of  the 
community,  put  them  under  guard,  confine  them  to  certain 
districts.”  One  sage  laid  the  whole  trouble  to  the  Flats  and 
wished  to  have  these  five  hundred  acres  of  filth  piled  with 
wood,  to  be  burned  for  a healthy  covering.  Others  seriously 
desired  in  December  to  consume  Bombay  itself  with  fire,  apart 
from  certain  localities.  This  suggestion  was  renewed  in 
January.  At  that  time,  Malabar  Hill,  Camballa  Hill,  the 
Docks,  the  Marine  Lines,  Tardeo,  the  Market,  Upper  Kolaba, 
the  Mill  Districts,  the  Esplanade,  and  a few  groups  of  build- 
ings, like  the  Grant  Buildings,  were  fairly  free  of  plague.  It 
was  proposed  to  burn  down  the  whole  city  with  the  exception 
of  these,  chiefly  outlying,  parts,  all  the  citizens  to  act  as  fire- 
men to  guard  the  rest  of  the  town.  Another  proposal  was  to 
“ establish  a general  funk  ” by  means  of  inflammatory  placards 
and  proclamation  by  bakari , that  is,  by  drum  and  crier,  among 
the  illiterate,  as  if  there  were  not  sufficient  fright  already. 
But  the  proposer  of  this  scheme  argued  that  too  few  natives 
had  fled,  that  the  sole  means  of  safety  was  in  laying  the 
plague  as  it  had  been  laid  in  Mandvie  Ward  by  giving  the 
foe  no  food.  If  all  the  inhabitants  were  to  flee,  the  plague 
would  be  starved  out.  So  all  talked,  but  nothing  was  done. 

The  deaths  still  increased  daily  in  number.  By  the  end  of 
the  third  week  of  December,  the  total  weekly  mortality  was 
1416,  with  946  as  the  mortality  due  to  plague.  The  next 
week,  ending  December  29,  the  plague  mortality  alone  was 
about  the  same  as  the  total  mortality  of  the  week  before. 

The  health  officer  had  at  last  concluded  that  a house-to- 
house  inspection  was  imperative  (as  indeed  it  was),  but 


THE  PLAGUE. 


313 


when  he  found  that  his  department  could  not  attend  to  this 
and  disinfect  the  slums,  and  that  native  officers  were  not 
obeyed  by  the  people,  he  called  on  the  British,  namely,  the  Bom- 
bay Artillery  V olunteers,  for  the  delicate  and  dangerous  work. 
Without  hesitation  they  accepted  the  risk  and  went  unques- 
tioningly  from  house  to  house,  from  chawl  to  chawl,  arguing, 
persuading,  and  insisting  on  the  necessity  not  only  of  sanita- 
tion, but  in  some  instances  of  proper  isolation.  For  the  peril 
of  the  hour  forced  one  fear  to  yield  to  another,  and  cases  were 
now  quietly  segregated  even  against  expostulation,  — a task 
rendered  easier  by  the  fact  that  most  of  the  native  agitators 
had  run  away,  leaving  their  poor  compatriots  to  settle  the 
question  of  segregation  or  death  as  best  they  might.  The 
work  of  the  Volunteers  began  on  the  first  day  of  the  new 
year,  and  as  the  Health  Department  had  left  them  to  their 
own  devices,  they  were  able  to  enforce  of  their  own  Sahib 
authority  the  principle  so  long  neglected.  Much  honor  is 
due  to  them,  as  their  act  was  a willing  offering  of  health  and 
life.  For  at  this  time,  though  Europeans  had  not  been  much 
attacked,  yet  no  one  supposed  that  they  were  immune,  since 
there  was  no  dearth  of  fatal  cases  which,  through  kindly  con- 
sideration for  the  bereaved,  had  been  reported  as  deaths  of 
Europeans,  though  most  of  them  were  in  reality  amongst 
Eurasian  or  half-breed  families  ; nor  was  it  possible  to  suppose 
that  any  one  could  enter  the  haunt  of  plague,  and  labor 
scathless  there  for  many  days.  But  that  is  what  these  young 
Englishmen  did;  for  they  went  personally  into  the  dismal 
chambers  that  the  Health  Department  had  not  touched,  and 
face  to  face  with  the  plague,  in  the  presence  of  its  dead  and 
dying,  despite  resistance  on  the  part  of  those  whom  they 
would  save,  let  air  and  light  into  the  foul  darkness.  In  many 
cases  they  found  it  necessary  to  remove  roof-tiles  and  break 
holes  for  the  admission  of  these  unknown  luxuries.  Then 
they  cleaned  what  had  never  been  cleaned,  inspected  the 
inmates,  removed  the  sick  and  the  concealed  dead,  and  did 
otherwise  all  that  ought  to  have  been  done  before. 

The  Volunteers  made  some  distressing  discoveries,  cases  of 


314 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


plague  uncared  for  and  bodies  of  plague  patients  dead  for  days 
but  still  concealed,  while  the  relatives,  fearing  segregation  for 
themselves  and  the  destruction  of  their  effects,  waited  a favor- 
able opportunity  to  take  the  corpse  in  secret  from  the  house. 
Ghastly  efforts  were  made  by  the  natives  to  hide  their  dead. 
The  corpse  would  be  covered  up  in  a corner,  or  even  held  up 
to  be  counted  as  a live  inmate  of  the  dark  hole  where  the 
family  lived. 

But  with  the  renewed  suggestion  of  segregation  there  came 
new  fright  into  the  simple  heart  of  the  natives,  whom  plague, 
famine,  blackmail,  usury,  and  the  fear  of  gods  already 
tormented,  and  when  they  found  that  they  themselves  were 
ill,  or  one  of  their  family,  they  would  on  the  instant  leave 
everything  to  escape  from  the  city,  so  that  even  their  dead,  of 
whom  they  are  usually  very  careful,  were  abandoned  in  blind 
terror ; and  if,  as  they  fled  with  him  from  town,  the  sick  one 
died,  they  left  the  body  in  the  street. 

But  in  the  case  of  those  who  did  not  try  to  escape,  it  was 
pitiful  to  see  them  and  hear  their  agony,  whenever  one  of  the 
family  fell  ill  in  the  house  and  was  carried  away  to  the 
hospital.  For  even  when  the  victims  were  women  or  children, 
although  in  their  case  no  great  fear  of  the  Queen’s  anger  was 
entertained,  yet  the  excitement  was  intense,  as  the  relatives 
clustered  about  the  door,  wailing  with  all  the  extravagance  of 
Oriental  woe.  But  when  it  was  the  husband  and  the  father, 
and  they  thought  that  his  death  was  certain,  if  not  from  the 
plague  then  by  the  knife  of  the  Queen’s  servants  in  the 
hospital,  the  despair  of  the  mourners  soon  got  beyond  all 
control.  Such  little  tragedies  occurred  daily,  and  one  which  I 
saw  myself  I will  speak  of,  though  it  is  impossible  to  depaint 
the  distress  of  the  unhappy  creatures  and  the  sadness  of  the 
scene. 

For  not  only  did  all  the  relatives  come  out  and  accompany 
the  sick  man  as  he  was  borne  into  the  street,  but  friends  and 
near  neighbors,  who  were  either  ignorant  of  danger  or  heedless 
of  contagion,  joined  them  there,  and  sharing  in  the  sorrow 
swelled  the  dismal  little  procession,  marching  behind  the  litter 


THE  PLAGUE. 


315 


and  crowding  beside  it  with  weeping  and  all  the  noisy  lamen- 
tation of  the  East.  There  were  children  in  the  family  and 
three  women,  two  old  hags  and  one  younger  and  not  uncomely, 
and  they  all  came  out  and  were  joined  by  about  a score  of 
friends  who  escorted  them.  For  a little  way  they  went  for- 
ward uttering  piercing  shrieks  and  invoking  vainly  the  sick 
man  to  return  and  the  bearers  to  give  him  back  to  his  dear 
ones,  that  they  might  be  beside  him  when  he  died.  But  the 
bearers  and  the  police,  who  were  also  there,  advanced  unheed- 
ing, and  the  children,  falling  behind,  began  to  play  in  the 
street.  Then,  however,  the  women  of  the  family  with  stream- 
ing eyes  and  clasped  hands  began  to  entreat  the  police  for 
mercy,  calling  upon  all  the  gods,  their  own  and  the  gods  of 
those  they  addressed,  to  hear  them.  But  after  they  had 
vainly  conjured  the  police  to  go  no  further  and  seen  clearly 
that  there  was  no  hope  of  their  prayer  prevailing,  they  made 
frantic  efforts  to  induce  them  to  promise  kind  treatment,  some- 
times screaming  to  all  the  officials  together  and  sometimes 
fastening  upon  one  alone,  as  if  otherwise  the  authorities  would 
be  relentless  in  cruelty.  For  they  besought  the  police  to  save 
the  dying  man  from  the  knife,  and  let  him  die  in  peace,  since  he 
had  committed  no  crime  against  the  Queen ; but  if  they  would 
not  restore  him,  to  remember  to  tend  him  well,  and  do  this  and 
that  for  him ; with  many  incoherent  cries  besides.  But  the  one 
that  was  about  to  die,  and  this  was  of  all  the  strangest  part 
of  the  scene,  remained  perfectly  still,  or  at  the  most  moved 
only  his  lips,  as  if  (as  they  are  wont  to  do  when  dying)  he 
were  muttering  the  name  of  his  god,  while  he  lay  staring  side- 
ways at  the  crowd  without  any  concern  in  the  tumult  of  their 
despair,  either  because  he  was  too  weak  to  speak  or  too 
stricken  with  fear  to  know  fully  who  they  were  that  pressed 
around  him. 

But  when  they  were  come  some  forty  yards,  the  police  at- 
tempted to  turn  the  throng  back,  not  roughly,  as  they  were 
often  accused  of  doing,  but  with  a great  deal  of  pity  and 
gentleness,  for  they  themselves  were  not  unmoved  by  the 
sight  about  them.  Nevertheless,  failing  in  this  they  finally 


316 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


resorted  to  pushing,  and  at  last  they  were  compelled  to  pro- 
hibit the  passing  of  a certain  spot,  beyond  which  every  advance 
on  the  part  of  the  mourners  was  forcibly  prevented.  So  at 
this  point  the  mourners  dropped  behind,  but  though  they  had 
cried  vehemently  before,  yet  now  when  they  were  no  longer 
permitted  to  see  the  dying  man  and  knew  that  love  could  go 
no  further,  the  passion  of  their  anguish  became  so  painful  that 
even  a stranger  could  not  endure  it.  I was  afterwards  told 
by  a Volunteer  that  one  of  his  men  had  even  fainted  at  just 
such  a scene,  and  no  wonder,  for  it  was  horrible. 

But  even  apart  from  pity,  the  whole  spectacle  was  strange 
and  had  something  as  if  inhuman  in  it,  for  it  seemed  like  the 
funeral  of  a man  not  yet  dead.  Nor  could  one  in  reality  be 
sure  that  the  sick  man  would  have  any  other  funeral  when 
shortly,  either  before  arriving  there  or  as  an  inmate  of  the 
hospital,  he  actually  died.  For  sometimes  no  notification  of 
a man’s  death  was  made  to  the  family,  but  unattended  and 
uncared  for  his  body  was  hurried  to  the  grave  or  burned  as 
quickly  as  possible. 

Not  the  least  striking  part  of  the  whole  scene,  however,  was 
this,  that  except  for  the  relatives  and  immediate  friends  no 
one  seemed  to  notice  or  to  care  •,  and  as  the  family  came  back 
to  their  home  even  they  that  had  gone  out  with  them  left 
them ; and  their  return  was  through  groups  of  their  nearest 
neighbors  who  yet,  like  the  little  ones  that  had  remained  be- 
hind, were  already  chattering  and  laughing  on  their  verandas, 
just  as  if  nothing  had  happened.  For  all  had  grown  callous, 
and  not  knowing  when  they  themselves  might  die  paid  little 
attention  to  others. 

To  a growing  carelessness  of  this  sort,  I can  testify  from 
my  own  experience.  For  never  having  happened  before  to 
see  such  a sight,  the  first  time  I saw  a man  who  was  ap- 
parently healthy  fall  dead  in  the  street  I was  much  startled. 
But  when  I had  roamed  about  the  city  for  some  time  (for  I 
was  there  off  and  on  every  month  but  one  till  the  plague 
abated  and  especially  during  the  great  terror  of  December),  I 
would  scarcely  notice  such  an  accident.  And,  too,  I found 


THE  PLAGUE. 


317 


that  the  expectation  of  death,  which  at  first  terrifies,  wears 
off  just  like  one’s  horror  of  the  sudden  corpse;  and  though 
at  first  one  imagines  death  imminent  and  is  afraid,  yet  after- 
wards even  in  the  midst  of  fancied  danger  one  thinks  nothing 
of  it. 

Men  died  swiftly  in  the  dying  of  last  year.  But  they  did 
not  die  without  another  effort  to  be  saved,  and  indeed,  despite 
callousness,  it  was  not  wonderful  that  mortals  should  turn 
again  to  Heaven  for  relief.  Already  on  December  8 there  wras 
an  universal  appeal  to  God  made  by  sects  the  most  diverse,  — 
Hindus,  Hebrews,  and  Mohammedans,  who  joined  in  one  com- 
mon procession  by  night,  reciting  prayers  as  they  marched 
through  the  city  by  torchlight. 

The  English,  too,  had  a special  intercessory  service  on 
December  22,  to  pray  for  the  decrease  of  the  plague,  but  the 
week  after  the  mortality  rose  to  the  highest  point  yet  attained. 
Then,  because  no  visible  effect  had  been  produced  by  the 
prayers  of  the  English,  the  Mohammedans  in  turn  resolved  to 
pray.  Two  great  meetings  took  place,  but  the  first  was 
merely  to  formulate  the  belief  of  the  community  in  “ prayer 
and  not  segregation  ” as  the  best  means  of  extinguishing  the 
plague.  “ The  mosque  is  our  hospital,”  was  the  cry.  Plague 
was  said  to  be  the  result  of  accumulated  sin,  and  holy  water 
sprinkled  on  a scapegoat  was  therefore  recommended  as  a 
cure.  It  was  resolved  to  hold  a mass  prayer-meeting  in  accord- 
ance with  these  principles,  but  the  sacrifice  of  the  goat  was 
omitted  and  only  prayers  were  held.  On  January  2 a vast  crowd 
of  Mohammedans  foregathered  for  the  event.  As  no  building 
in  Bombay  could  hold  them,  they  met  in  the  open.  That  scene, 
too,  was  one  not  to  be  forgotten.  It  was  the  end  of  the  win- 
ter’s day.  Beyond  the  yellow  margin  of  the  Esplanade,  where 
the  blue  grackles  quarrelled  in  the  grimy  trees,  stretched  the  bay- 
water  dancing  brightly,  while  far  in  the  distance  the  Highlands 
to  the  west  rose  fairly  purple  under  the  low  sun.  Except  for 
the  birds  it  was  very  still.  The  noise  of  the  city  had  almost 
ceased.  The  multitude  had  come  together  silently  as  if  awed. 
They  had  been  collecting  all  day.  They  gathered,  dark-faced 


318 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


and  sombre,  in  families  and  white-robed  bands,  slowly  arrang- 
ing themselves.  But  soon  they  were  too  numerous  for  dis- 
tinction ; only  they  kept,  as  they  knelt  compactly  side  by  side, 
a sort  of  serried  order.  The  service  was  begun  by  the  princi- 
pal Kazi,  who  first  singly  invoked  God  to  avert  the  arrows  of 
His  pestilence.  Afterwards  the  whole  assembly  united  in 
prayer,  at  the  beginning  with  sounds  low  and  monotonous,  but 
then  louder  and  so  in  more  varied  tones,  till  when  the  mania 
of  fervor  had  roused  them  fully,  the  excitement  shrilled  their 
voices  and  the  prayer  became  a cry  and  then  a yell  like  an 
imprecation.  One  would  scream  and  stop  and  then  another 
would  scream,  or  a dozen  would  shriek  together ; and  all  the 
time  they  prayed,  they  prostrated  themselves.  So  their  bodies 
rose  and  fell  in  long  rows  like  waves ; while  in  regular  move- 
ment each  forehead  would  be  bowed  to  the  dust  and  then  up- 
lifted, the  head  thrown  back,  the  arms  extended  to  Heaven, 
the  black  features  writhing  with  the  intensity  of  their  suppli- 
cations. Raised  a little  above  them  on  boxes  and  stools  draped 
for  this  purpose,  stood  here  and  there  the  gaudy  priests  lead- 
ing the  appeal  of  the  great  host,  as  it  bowed  and  rose,  swaying 
rhythmically  to  the  music  of  the  chanted  prayers. 

For  an  hour  they  thus  invoked  Allah  together,  but  as  the  sun 
struck  level  across  the  bay,  each  priest  in  turn  addressed  them, 
praising  their  piety  and  promising  them  in  God’s  name  speedy 
succor.  So  they  prayed  and  were  comforted ; and  after  they 
had  eaten  all  the  cakes  and  dates  that  had  been  provided,  and 
offered  each  for  himself  one  last  supplication,  they  departed. 

Some  of  the  Hindus  also,  who  had  already  done  so  much  for 
the  gods,  were  now  moved  to  sacrifice  again.  On  New  \ ear’s 
day  the  wretched  fishermen  of  Worli  and  Mahim,  whose  huts 
on  the  northern  shore  the  plague  had  recently  made  more  mis- 
erable, having  resolved  to  do  what  they  could  to  propitiate 
the  deity  of  death,  provided  themselves  out  of  their  scanty 
stores  (for  they  were  starving  as  well  as  stricken  by  plague) 
with  the  offerings  which  their  goddess  accepts.  After  the  sun 
had  set  they  entered  their  boats  and  stood  off,  and  when  they 
were  well  away  and  the  sudden  darkness  came  on,  they  drew 


THE  PLAGUE. 


319 


their  craft  together.  Then  lighting  torches,  which  they  held 
high  aloft,  they  arose  with  one  accord  and  prayed  to  Kali,  at  the 
same  time  casting  into  the  sea  their  sacrifice,  which  was  of  milk 
and  palm-juice  and  sweets.  When  this  was  done  they  prayed 
again,  with  what  form  of  words  I do  not  know  surely,  but  it 
was  reported  the  next  day  that  they  had  charged  the  goddess 
to  relent  for  the  sake  of  her  own  offerings,  which,  if  she  should 
prove  heedless  of  their  prayers,  they  would  never  give  her 
again.  As  a sign  of  this  threat  they  extinguished  their 
torches  in  the  sea  and  so  rowed  home. 

Shortly  afterwards  those  Parsees  who  still  lingered  in  town 
invoked  also  their  own  peculiar  gods.  First  they  had  public 
jasan  or  intercessory  prayers  to  the  Sun,  and  a few  days  later  a 
congregation  of  three  hundred  met  together  at  Karelwady  to 
beseech  the  mercy  and  protection  of  the  various  Zoroastrian 
divinities.  Of  all  the  rites  this  was  in  so  far  most  interesting 
as  it  had  to  do  with  the  oldest  gods  in  India.  F or  though  the 
Parsees  themselves  have  been  in  India  only  1265  years,  yet 
their  gods  are  older  than  the  Vedas ; but  the  great  gods  of  the 
modern  Hindus  are  later,  or  at  least  they  were  received  later 
into  the  pantheon  of  the  ancient  Hindus. 

The  fire-temple  at  which  the  ceremony  was  performed  stands 
near  the  western  sea.  There  the  Parsees  first  offered  prayers 
to  the  Sun  and  to  Fire,  and  also  to  Mithra,  who  was  once  a 
sun-god,  but  is  now  an  attendant  divinity.  Then  they  de- 
scended from  the  temple  to  the  sea,  the  priests  having  on  their 
richest  robes  and  leading  the  procession,  and  there  prayed  to 
the  Spirit  of  the  Waters,  who,  they  believe,  is  a goddess  of  puri- 
fication. For  both  the  Spirit  of  Fire  and  the  Spirit  of  the 
Waters  are  in  their  estimation  purifiers  and  healers.  But 
they  offer  no  sacrifice.  So  when  they  had  prayed  and  the 
venerable  priest  of  Zoroaster  had  said  a few  words  (whereby 
he  reminded  them  that  the  Prince  of  Wales  had  once  been 
cured  of  a grievous  illness  by  means  of  similar  prayers  on  their 
part)  the  service  was  brought  to  an  end.  And  such  services 
were  held  also  elsewhere,  wherever  the  Parsees  were  who  had 
fled  from  the  city,  at  Surat,  at  Mhow,  and  in  other  places. 


320 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


As  I have  already  said,  many  of  the  natives,  both  the  un- 
educated and  the  half-educated,  believed  that  the  original 
cause  of  the  plague  was  the  insult  offered  to  the  Queen’s 
statue,  and  they  considered  that  there  had  not  been  any  suffi- 
cient apology  for  this  act,  which  in  their  mode  of  thought  was 
sacrilegious  and  aimed  against  Heaven  itself.  Toward  the 
middle  of  January,  therefore,  the  following  petition,  composed 
in  the  customary  English  of  the  better-class  natives,  was  sent 
to  the  Governor.  To  understand  it  fully,  it  must  be  remem- 
bered that  the  prayers  here  suggested  are  intended  as  a dep- 
recation of  wrath  addressed  to  the  Queen  in  her  capacity  as 
earthly  representative  of  the  Divine.  The  petition,  it  will  be 
noticed,  is  not  sectarian,  but  catholic  to  a degree  undreamed  of 
in  the  ordinary  philosophy  of  the  religious  world.  All  sects 
and  castes  are  to  unite  in  prayer  to  a deity  named  Almighty 
God.  This  is  not  meant  as  a concession  to  Christianity.  The 
title  is  intended  for  a general  designation  of  the  Supreme,  as 
the  Hindus  call  their  own  Supreme  God  by  the  same  name, 
and  the  formula  is  employed  by  them  and  by  Mohammedans 
to  paraphrase  the  names  of  Vishnu-^iva  and  of  Allah.  The 
petition  distinctly  makes  the  first  cause  of  the  plague  to  be 
the  mutilation  of  the  Queen’s  statue. 

AN  HUMBLE  APPEAL  TO  HIS  EXCELLENCY  THE 
BIGHT  HONOURABLE  GOVERNOR  OF  BOMBAY. 

To  his  Excellency  the  Right  Honourable  Governor  and 
President  in  Council,  Governor  of  Bombay. 

May  it  please  your  Excellency,  — The  humble  petition  to  alle- 
viate human  sufferings  for  the  benefit  of  the  public  goodness 
and  welfare  of  the  people  of  Bombay  and  its  vicinities. 

Most  humbly  declare  that  at  present  a disastrous  and  destruc- 
tive disease,  known  by  the  name  of  Bubonic  Plague,  is  spread- 
ing and  prevailing  on  in  Bombay,  and  hundreds  of  people  are 
dying  through  its  effect  every  month.  It  is  supposed  that  the 
cause  of  the  above  disease  and  plague  is  the  rueful  and  abomi- 
nable act  of  some  one  miscreant  by  doing  mischief  to  the  auspi- 


THE  PLAGUE. 


321 


cious  statue  of  her  most  Gracious  Imperial  Brittanic  Majesty 
the  Queen-Empress  the  Kaiser-i-Hind  by  blackening  and  be- 
smearing it  out  of  and  in  spite  and  malice  and  purposely  to 
hurt  and  wound  the  natural  feelings  of  the  loyal  British  sub- 
jects, to  insult  and  tarnish  the  glory  of  her  Majesty’s  auspicious 
name  and  reign,  and  has  also  made  a sacrilegious  act,  and  blas- 
phemed the  Almighty  God  with  irreverence,  and  by  doing  this 
act  of  high  offence  and  infamy  the  said  abominable  mean  wretch 
has  drawn  on  himself  the  general  imprecations  of  the  loyal  sub- 
jects of  the  just  and  benign  British  Rule.  It  is  therefore  most 
earnestly  beseeched  to  his  Excellency  that  his  Excellency  will 
be  pleased  and  kind  enough  to  order  expressly,  all  and  every 
nations  and  subjects  of  all  and  every  caste  and  creed,  including 
Europeans,  Parsees,  Hindoos,  Mahomedans,  Jews,  and  Hebrews, 
and  all  other  nations  residing  under  the  British  sway,  and  all 
the  other  subjects  of  every  nations,  to  suspend  and  recede  from 
all  their  worldly  affairs  and  business,  and  to  desist  from  it  for  a 
day  or  a few  days,  as  long  as  his  Excellency  will  think  fit,  and 
order  them  all  to  fervently  pray  into  their  public  places  of 
worship  and  prayer,  such  as  in  churches,  agiarees,  mandirs, 
mosques,  and  synagogues,  and  every  other  holy  places,  and 
keep  these  few  days  as  Sabbaths,  and  invoke  and  supplicate 
the  merciful  Almighty  God  to  get  it  stopped  and  extirpate  the 
disastrous  plague  from  its  root,  through  the  supernatural  influ- 
ence, and  to  preserve  and  spare  the  British  subjects  from  un- 
timely dying  and  draw  out  from  the  jaws  of  death,  and  by  the 
Divine  Will  and  supplication  the  general  health,  peace,  and 
prospects  of  the  people  will  be  restored,  and  by  it  the  lives  of 
the  people  will  be  saved  and  rescued  by  its  Divine  influence. 
By  doing  this  act  of  public  charity  it  will  be  deemed  a divine 
benediction  bestowed  on  the  poor  British  subjects,  and  all  the 
loyal  subject  will  heartily  wish  the  prosperity  of  the  British 
reign  and  will  always  as  in  duty  bound  ever  pray  for  the  long 
life  of  their  merciful  ruler  the  Gracious  Her  Majesty.  Amen. 

This  petition  was  not  acted  upon.  But  a few  days  later,  on 
January  19,  the  Hindus  performed  a saving  rite  by  themselves, 
which  consisted  chiefly  in  encircling  the  town  with  a stream  of 
milk.  But  I cannot  describe  it  more  fully,  and  must  omit 

21 


322 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


also  a few  other  curious  rites  both  performed  and  merely  pro- 
posed about  this  time,  for  there  were  many  such  ceremonies 
suggested  as  cures  of  plague  by  learned  Pundits  in  various 
parts  of  the  country.  Only  one  incident,  since  it  seems  to  me 
of  special  interest,  I will  mention  particularly,  and  that  is 
that  in  the  propitiatory  service  there  was  not  infrequently  a 
wonderful  reversion  of  religious  belief.  For  as  far  as  Indra  and 
other  Yedic  gods  are  concerned,  they  are  lost  in  the  modern 
All-god.  But  in  this  year  of  extremity,  the  people  went  back 
to  the  old  god  of  rain,  for  famine  was  harrying  the  folk  as  well 
as  plague,  and  this  same  ceremony  which  I have  just  men- 
tioned of  encircling  a town  with  milk  was  performed  against  the 
famine-demon  by  the  Sheth  of  Ahmedabad.  It  was  given  out 
that  he  was  praying  to  the  great  gods  as  he  circumambulated  the 
city  pouring  milk ; but  in  reality  he  prayed  to  Indra,  as  I was 
credibly  informed  by  one  in  authority  who  knew.  And  simi- 
larly, I was  told  by  an  official  who  knows  Behar  well  that 
to  this  day  the  peasant  there  prays  to  “ Indra  whose  wife  is 
Kali.”  So  changed  but  deathless  are  the  old  gods.  But  it 
would  be  too  long  a story  to  tell  all  that  occurred  between  the 
people  and  their  gods,  and  what  happened  as  regards  the  famine 
and  the  earthquake  — for  the  year  was  marked  also  by  one  of 
the  most  terrible  earthquakes  — I must  leave  out ; only  one 
curious  fact  about  the  small-pox  goddess  may  perhaps  be 
added.  For  there  was  small-pox  in  the  Mofussil,  and  there 
is  a goddess  Small-pox  to  whom  the  people  pray.  In  behalf 
of  adults  they  pray,  “ O kind  goddess  of  small -pox  ” (or  more 
truly,  “ O kind  Small-pox”),  “keep  away  from  us.”  But  for 
babies  the  mothers  pray,  “ O kind  Small-pox,  come  soon  to 
this  baby  and  treat  it  gently.”  They  believe  that  every  one 
will  probably  be  visited  by  Small-pox,  but  that  the  goddess 
will  not  be  hard  upon  infants,  so  they  hope  she  will  come 
when  the  children  are  little.  They  call  her  (yitala,  “ the  cool,” 
because  she  brings  burning  fever,  and  “ kind  ” because  she  is 
cruel,  as  in  the  case  of  Qiva. 

But  to  come  back  to  the  plague,  the  prophecies  of  the  astrolo- 
gers, though  often  proved  false,  continued  to  find  credence. 


THE  PLAGUE. 


323 


The  most  popular  was  that  the  plague  would  cease  with  the 
Makar  Sankranti  holiday,  which  occurs  when  the  sun  enters 
Capricorn,  the  middle  of  January.  After  the  middle  of  Jan- 
uary the  most  popular  prophecy  was  that  the  plague  would 
cease  with  the  Holi  festival,  the  middle  of  March.  After  the 
middle  of  March,  “ next  year  ” was  the  time  set.  The  means 
proposed  by  the  native  astrologer  to  avert  the  plague  was  the 
invocation  of  certain  planets  (Mars  and  Saturn),  and  the  wor- 
shipping of  the  “ wheel  of  the  nine  planets.” 

The  total  mortality  in  the  last  week  of  December  had  been 
1853;  that  in  the  first  week  of  January  was  1711  (plague 
mortality,  1217).  This  seems  to  be  a reduction,  but  a careful 
estimate  in  the  Times  of  India  for  the  week  ending  January  5 
shows  that  the  chief  plague-hiding  diseases  are  credited  in  this 
report  with  676  deaths  above  the  normal,  withal  when  the 
population  was  a third  to  one  half  less  than  the  normal.  But 
there  was  for  a few  weeks,  owing  either  to  reduction  of  popu- 
lation or  to  one  of  the  lulls  which  occasionally  appeared  in  the 
plague,  like  a trough  between  breakers,  a diminution  both  in 
the  plague  mortality  and  in  the  total  mortality,  though  at  the 
end  of  this  lull  the  latter  rose  to  a height  hitherto  unknown, 
for  in  the  week  ending  February  9 the  plague  mortality  alone 
was  1371  (total  mortality  for  the  week,  1911). 

During  January  the  aspect  of  the  city  was  mournful  beyond 
description.  The  throngs  of  people  hurrying  to  the  stations ; 
the  death-falls  in  the  street,  when  no  passer-by  dared  to  touch 
the  dying  man;  the  pitiful  little  funerals,  where  sometimes 
the  only  mourners  were  the  bearers,  and  they,  feebly  chanting 
the  shrill  dirge,  would  run  rapidly  with  the  uncovered  corpse 
lest  they  died  on  the  way ; occasionally  a funeral  without  a 
bier,  but  the  body  was  slung  on  a pole  and,  it  was  said,  even 
oozed  blood ; the  starving,  emaciated  figures  huddled  together 
on  the  doorsteps  of  the  wretched  tenements ; the  frightened, 
suspicious  glances  with  which  every  one  looked  on  every  one 
else  in  the  street ; the  general  air  of  crouching  before  an  in- 
visible malign  power,  — these  were  the  marks  of  the  New  Year. 
And  the  physical  appearance  of  the  city  did  not  lessen  the 


324 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


melancholy  effect.  The  streets,  despite  all  the  efforts  of  the 
Health  Department,  were  a reproach  to  humanity ; the  long 
drought  had  covered  the  trees  with  dust ; they  stood  gaunt  and 
gray-leaved  above  the  sickly  grass.  All  day  the  sun  shone 
hotly,  all  night  it  was  bitterly  cold ; not  with  the  tonic  cold  of 
the  West ; but  with  the  horrible  chill  of  a tomb,  of  India. 

At  this  time  voluntaryism,  a phrase  of  the  occasion,  was 
the  order  of  the  day.  In  submitting  to  voluntary  segregation 
there  was  a great  difference  between  the  communities.  The 
Khoja  sect  of  the  Mohammedans,  owing  to  the  influence  of 
their  leader  Aga  Khan,  showed  themselves  much  more  en- 
lightened than  the  Sunni  Mohammedans.  The  Jains  would 
scarcely  enter  their  own  hospital.  The  Hindus  had  not  yet 
resolved  to  have  a hospital,  but  the  municipal  sheds  were  at 
their  disposal.  These,  however,  the  Hindus,  like  the  Moham- 
medans, did  not  want  to  use.  The  native  community  that 
acted  most  sensibly  was  that  of  the  Parsees.  They  had  an 
excellent  hospital,  they  went  to  the  hospital  more  readily, 
they  opposed  segregation  less  than  any  other  sect  or 
nationality. 

But  whether  the  gods  had  heard  or  only  the  Raj  across  the 
sea,  better  days  were  already  at  hand.  The  city  government 
had  proved  itself  incapable  of  wrestling  with  the  storm  of 
plague.  So  now  a real  gubernator  took  the  city’s  helm. 

The  speech  from  the  throne  on  January  19  (the  day  after 
Italy  proposed  the  Venice  Plague  Conference)  did  much  to 
keep  up  English  courage.  It  said  little  in  respect  of  the 
plague,  but  that  little  was  enough : “ Take  the  most  stringent 
measures.”  The  Governor  at  once  (January  20)  appointed 
first  a special  plague  officer  to  inspect  the  city  and  “ advise  ” 
the  municipal  commissioner ; then  an  assistant  health  officer, 
twenty  medical  officers,  and  others  deemed  necessary. 

In  addition  to  the  useful  measure  of  appointing  scientific 
experts,  both  doctors  and  officers  for  the  purpose  of  facilitating 
house-to-house  visitation,  — there  were  thirty  thousand  houses 
to  be  inspected,  and  the  four  employed  by  the  health  officer 


THE  PLAGUE. 


325 


had  been  entirely  inadequate,  — the  Governor  early  in  Feb- 
ruary (the  10th)  published  a Notification  made  possible  by  a 
special  Epidemic  Disease  Act  which  had  just  been  passed. 
This  Notification  authorized,  and  in  fact  directed,  the  municipal 
commissioner,  of  his  own  authority  and  without  reference  to 
the  magistrates,  to  prohibit  the  occupation  of  any  building  de- 
clared to  be  unfit  for  human  habitation ; to  require  abatement 
of  over-crowding,  the  vacation  of  buildings  and  premises  for 
disinfecting ; to  enter  deserted  buildings  forcibly  (when  they 
were  locked  up),  and  to  cleanse  and  disinfect  them ; to  remove 
the  earth  of  floors,  and  to  cut  off  water-connections  when  neces- 
sary ; to  demolish  any  building  unfit  for  habitation,  and  to 
destroy  infected  articles.  Some  few  of  these  powers  had  al- 
ready been  assumed.  All  of  them  might  have  been  acquired 
long  before,  had  the  commissioner  taken  the  initiative,  or  even 
followed  the  advice  given  to  him  by  the  government  commit- 
tee (appointed  to  report,  when  the  plague  first  broke  out)  to 
apply  for  greater  powers.  February  was  spent  in  organizing 
and  carrying  out  a campaign  against  the  plague.  On  February 
26,  the  Governor,  Lord  Sandhurst,  delivered  a timely  speech, 
in  which  he  said  in  effect : 

“ Citizens  of  Bombay,  do  not  fear  the  cost  of  sanitation,  nor 
the  anger  of  the  greedy  wretches  whose  insanitary  houses  have 
been  held  together  for  rent.  Destroy  what  is  unfit  for  human 
habitation.  Kill  the  plague  by  destroying  its  habitat  in  these 
rookeries.  This  is  what  I have  been  trying  to  do.  Help  me 
to  continue  this  work,  till  we  pull  down  all  the  foul  death- 
traps of  the  town.  Erect  sanitary  buildings.  Broaden  the 
streets.  Rebuild  Bombay,  and  let  her  be  again  in  reality,  as 
she  once  was,  as  she  was  meant  to  be  by  nature,  Bombay  the 
Beautiful.” 

This  speech  was  received  with  enthusiasm.  It  brought  back 
courage.  People  felt  that  at  last  a man  had  taken  charge. 

On  March  5,  the  Gatacre  Committee  was  appointed  by  the 
Governor.  General  Gatacre,  the  chairman,  had  been  put  in 
control  of  the  hutting  arrangements  at  Parel  Park,  where  an 
auxiliary  hospital  was  equipped  (to  which  were  afterwards 


326 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


sent  the  convalescents  of  the  over-crowded  Arthur  Road  Hos- 
pital). He  was  the  Executive’s  right  hand  in  the  vigorous 
sanitary  reform  instituted  by  the  Governor  and  had  already 
done  most  efficient  work.  The  city  health  officer  was  not  made 
a member  of  this  committee  ; the  city  commissioner  was  put  on 
the  committee,  but  not  as  the  chairman.  By  the  appointment 
of  this  committee  the  sanitation  of  Bombay  was  completely 
taken  out  of  the  hands  of  its  municipality.  The  committee 
was  expressly  stated  to  be  “ subordinate  only  to  Government,” 
that  is,  to  the  Presidential  government.  The  letter  of  the 
Governor  to  the  municipal  corporation  explaining  this  drastic 
measure  concluded  with  the  bland  remark:  “To  do  this  is  no 
slur  on  local  bodies ; it  is  no  blow  to  local  self-government. 
It  is  simply  an  Imperial  necessity.” 

The  necessity  was  stated  to  be  due  to  the  fact  that,  as  the 
plague  was  now  spread  over  the  whole  Presidency,  it  was  es- 
sential that  the  campaign  should  be  conducted  with  military 
subordination  on  the  part  of  local  bodies.  In  the  formal 
appointment  of  the  committee,  the  municipal  corporation 
were  curtly  directed  “ to  carry  into  effect  without  delay  any 
measures  which  may  be  ordered  by  the  committee.”  In  other 
words,  the  city  corporation  were  reduced  to  a political  cipher. 

Under  this  order  municipal  apathy  vanished.  The  corpora- 
tion hurriedly  raised  legal  objections  to  their  own  virtual  sup- 
pression, as  implied  by  the  somewhat  extraordinary  wording 
just  cited,  but  in  the  end  they  submitted  as  gracefully  as  they 
could.  Thereafter,  as  regards  the  plague,  the  municipality 
dropped  out  of  sight. 

Times  were  changed  now  in  Bombay.  Four  hospitals  — the 
Arthur  Road,  the  Parel  auxiliary,  the  European  General,  and 
the  Kamatipur  shed-hospital  — were  open  to  plague  patients, 
and  the  natives  were  told  that  the  sick  would  have  to  be  iso- 
lated, whether  they  would  or  no.  Segregation  was  actually 
enforced.  Then  the  plague  began  to  decline.  Other  huts 
were  erected,  at  Tank  Bunder,  Chaopatty,  Kamatipur,  etc. 
To  these  were  sent  the  destitute  and  those  who  had  been  in 
contact  with  plague  cases.  But  many  more  huts  were  built. 


THE  PLAGUE. 


327 


By  April  there  were  forty-one  hospitals  in  the  city  (besides  the 
sectarian  hospitals)  and  six  hundred  segregation  huts.  The 
hospital  staff  was  strengthened.  Nurses  from  England  were 
cabled  for.  Woman  inspectors  and  physicians  were  appointed 
for  purdah  women.  For  the  first  time  medical  certificates  were 
insisted  on.  Hacks,  if  used  to  convey  plague-patients,  were  no 
longer  permitted  to  return  undisinfected  to  their  stand,  an 
abuse  which,  despite  all  protests,  was  current  during  the 
winter.  Restrictions  were  put  upon  returning  inhabitants 
liable  to  bring  disease  back  with  them ; first  on  those  coming 
back  by  ship,  then,  in  April,  on  those  by  rail.  An  army  of  men 
were  sent  out  to  inspect  and  cleanse  the  ten  districts  into  which, 
to  facilitate  sanitary  work,  the  city  had  been  divided;  a re- 
sponsible officer  was  put  in  charge  of  each  district.  An  extra 
staff  of  nearly  a thousand  men  was  created  in  the  health  de- 
partment ; of  four  thousand  in  the  engineering  department. 
The  idle  military  were  put  to  work.  Concealed  cases  of  plague 
were  artfully  detected  by  means  of  official  surprise-parties,  after 
the  locality  had  already  been  inspected.  The  corporation  were 
told  that  if  they  did  not  at  once  settle  the  question  of  the  dis- 
posal of  cutchra , over  which  they  had  been  dawdling  for  six 
months,  the  question  would  be  settled  for  them.  That  also 
which  the  corporation  had  never  had  sense  or  sympathy  to  do, 
the  higher  government  now  did.  It  ordered  compensation 
to  be  paid,  not  as  a right,  but  as  a grace,  to  “ the  very  poor,” 
whose  infected  goods  were  destroyed  for  the  public  weal.  Fin- 
ally, in  the  middle  of  April,  one  crowning  abuse  was  stopped. 
The  Mohammedan  Grant  Road  burial-ground  was  closed  by 
order  of  the  Governor. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  everything  was  accomplished 
at  once.  The  number  of  cases  of  plague  still  concealed,  de- 
spite the  most  careful  surveillance,  gives  a hint  of  the  numbers 
not  detected  under  a less  vigilant  system  of  inspection.  Even 
blackmail  was  still  practiced,  but  the  only  case  reported  was 
that  of  municipal  employees,  who  in  April  took  six  rupees  as 
a bribe  and  let  a godown  (storehouse)  go  free  of  inspection. 

The  mettle  of  their  new  rein-holder  was  soon  tested  by  the 


328 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


balkiest  of  the  natives,  the  Sunni  Mohammedans.  But  an  in- 
timation of  strength  had  been  given  before  this.  The  great 
religious  Valkeshvar  Fair  of  March  1,  and  the  popular  delirium 
of  the  Holi  Festival,  which  inaugurates  the  return  of  spring 
and  takes  place  on  the  full  moon  of  the  same  month,  were 
both  looked  forward  to  with  anxiety,  as  had  been  indicated  in 
a letter  addressed  to  the  Governor  on  February  15  by  the 
Chamber  of  Commerce.  The  former  celebration,  however, 
was  now  restricted  by  the  express  orders  of  the  government 
(“in  consultation  with  the  municipal  commissioner,”  for  this 
officer  figured  in  proclamations)  ; while  the  Holi  procession 
was  absolutely  prohibited.  As  for  the  Mohammedans,  the  im- 
perial government  itself  prohibited  the  still  more  dangerous 
Haj  pilgrimage  (to  Mecca),  to  the  great  grief  and  indignation 
of  the  Mohammedan  community,  who  saw  in  this  act  only 
“ an  invidious  distinction ; ” though  in  this  the  Sunnis  opposed 
their  own  chief,  Abdur  Rahman,  Amir  of  Afghanistan,  who 
supported  the  action  of  the  English  authorities  regarding  the 
Haj.  But  it  was  left  for  the  Sunnis  of  Bombay  in  particular 
to  emphasize  their  own  unfitness  for  civilized  society.  No 
sooner  had  the  new  law  gone  into  effect  than  there  began 
(March  15)  a series  of  angry  mass-meetings,  to  protest  and 
petition  against  the  measures  of  segregation  and  inspection. 
In  vain  the  Governor,  in  refusing  to  grant  the  petition,  ex- 
plained the  situation  at  length,  and  assured  the  Sunnis  that 
their  feelings,  especially  in  regard  to  purdah  women,  would  be 
respected.  The  Sunnis  sent  in  another  petition  more  imperti- 
nent than  the  first  (for  both  petitions  virtually  said,  “ we 
will  not  ”),  and  then  had  the  impudence  to  declare  roundly 
that  nothing  would  induce  them  to  yield  the  point.  After  the 
loss  of  much  time  spent  in  kind  and  courteous  explanations 
the  Governor,  on  April  5,  told  the  Sunnis  peremptorily  that 
they  would  have  to  obey.  They  obeyed  at  once.  Some  of 
their  wealthy  leaders  had  been  converted  to  common-sense 
long  before  and  supported  the  government,  both  in  trying  to 
persuade  their  ignorant  fellows  and  in  generously  building 
hospitals  for  them.  But  these  gentlemen,  who  were  really 


THE  PLAGUE. 


329 


enlightened,  had  little  influence  as  compared  with  the  clerical 
leaders,  most  of  whom  were  incorrigible.  On  the  receipt  of 
the  definitive  refusal  to  exempt  Mohammedans  from  the  com- 
mon law  of  safety,  “ a would-be  Ghazi  ” sent  General  Gatacre 
a letter,  informing  him  that  he  would  be  decapitated  within 
a fortnight  owing  to  his  zeal  in  enforcing  sanitary  regulations. 
But  the  barking  dog  did  not  bite.  The  Calcutta  Moham- 
medans imitated  the  Bombayans  on  April  9,  when  five  thou- 
sand of  the  former  made  a formal  protest  against  the  same 
sanitary  regulations,  then  about  to  be  put  in  force  all  over 
India. 

March  had  opened  with  a drop  in  the  weekly  account  with 
death.  F or  the  first  time  since  December  the  plague  mortality 
stood  in  three  figures.  Three  weeks  later  the  deaths  had 
fallen  from  this  point  of  nine  hundred  and  thirty-eight  to  six 
hundred ; by  April  20  they  were  three  hundred  and  ten ; by 
the  first  of  May  there  were  only  one  hundred  deaths  in  the 
week.  By  the  end  of  March  the  returning  inhabitants  nearly 
balanced  in  number  the  outgoing,  and  after  that  the  former 
were  in  excess.  By  the  end  of  April  the  plague  was  almost 
extinct.  Not  the  warmer  weather  alone  was  the  cause,  but 
the  new  commander  and  the  means  he  used.  In  the  latter  half 
of  March  appeared  a new  red  sign  in  Bombay,  the  letters 
U H H painted  on  the  front  of  houses,  Unfit  for  Human 
Habitation,  but  fit  homes  for  plague.  Hundreds  of  these 
houses  were  condemned,  and  the  wretched  inhabitants  were 
hutted  in  the  country.  But  the  monsoon  expected  in  June 
put  a stop  to  the  work,  lest  more  people  should  be  found  to  be 
hutted  at  the  beginning  of  the  rains  than  could  be  roofed  again. 

After  the  Governor  took  control  there  was  less  excite- 
ment, and  nothing  of  religious  moment  occurred,  for  finding 
that  danger  was  departing  men  no  longer  took  the  same 
interest  in  the  gods.  Only  early  in  the  spring  some  of  the 
thakorjis  or  Vishnu  idols,  whom  the  priests  had  fed  and  prayed 
to  all  winter,  till  at  last  they  could  wait  for  succor  no  longer, 
were  removed  from  the  town,  their  priests  fleeing  just  as  the 
tide  was  about  to  turn.  Yet  so  great  was  their  faith  that  they 


330 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


carried  with  them  the  gods  they  thought  had  been  deaf  to 
their  prayers. 

In  other  respects  also  this  season  was  devoid  of  memorable 
events,  save  that  riots  had  occasionally  to  be  suppressed. 
But  when  sanitation  and  segregation  were  resisted  the  rioters 
were  put  down  easily,  for  the  Governor  was  not  afraid,  and  the 
people  yielded  as  soon  as  they  became  convinced  of  this. 

By  June  the  plague  was  stamped  out  of  the  city.  Then 
became  apparent  the  danger  which  had  lurked  in  the  sign  of 
recovery.  So  long  as  lasted  the  careful  inspection  of  those 
who  poured  back  into  the  town,  there  was  no  risk.  Bombay 
at  the  end  of  spring  was  actually  free  of  plague.  For  a whole 
week  in  June  no  death  due  to  it  occurred  in  the  city. 

But  the  end  was  not  yet.  Those  thousands  of  refugees  who 
had  carried  the  plague  with  them  and  planted  it  over  the  whole 
Presidency,  up  and  down  the  coast,  north  and  south  and  in- 
land, east  as  far  as  Nasik  and  the  Ivhandeis  district  — but 
the  main  plague  outside  the  Presidential  town  was  at  Karachi, 
Bulsar,  and  Poona  — and  still  further,  beyond  the  Presidency, 
at  Bangalore  in  the  south,  where  it  had  entered  as  early  as 
November,  at  Gwalior,  Agra,  and  even  Lahore  in  the  north 
— those  thousands  returned.  And  in  returning  from  other 
districts,  which  were  still  plague-smitten,  month  after  month, 
when  no  longer  controlled  by  any  adequate  inspection,  for  the 
state  government  had  accomplished  its  task  and  resigned  its 
hold,  — in  returning  to  a populace  as  determined  as  ever  to 
resist  segregation  or  sanitation  and  to  a municipality  too 
weak  to  enforce  either  means  of  safety,  they  brought  back 
the  Great  Death  to  Bombay. 


Written  during  the  winter  of  1896-97  and  completed  the 
end  of  June,  1897,  soon  after  I came  back  from  India.  I have 
since  added  a few  notes  and  the  last  two  paragraphs.  Of  the 
history  of  the  plague  subsequent  to  its  recrudescence  in  the 
city  I have  no  knowledge,  and  though  I saw  it  elsewhere  than 
in  Bombay  it  would  extend  this  sketch  unduly  to  tell  of  its 


THE  PLAGUE. 


331 


course  through  the  country  at  large.  Nor  do  I believe  that 
after  the  first  few  months,  barring  the  tragedy  at  Poona, 
where  for  a time  all  the  ways  of  the  East  and  West  ran 
counter,  there  were  either  elsewhere  or  in  Bombay  the  same 
terror  and  excitement  or  any  events  that  revealed  the  strange 
heart  of  India  more  clearly  than  those  I have  here  tried  to 
describe.  For  outside  of  Bombay,  the  authorities,  already 
warned,  paid  less  attention  to  the  remonstrance  of  ignorance 
and  so  mastered  the  plague  more  quickly;  and  later,  when 
the  Great  Death  crept  back  into  Bombay,  the  doctrine  of 
fatalism  became,  as  it  seems,  the  accepted  faith  even  of  those 
to  whom  it  was  not  native,  and  the  whole  city  relapsed 
into  apathy,  letting  the  plague  do  as  it  would  and  waiting 
till  it  should  choose  to  go.  But  of  the  first  few  months  I 
have  ventured  to  write  in  the  belief  that  the  account  may 
perhaps  interest  those  who  are  either  pleased  with  supersti- 
tions or  curious  in  regard  to  what  is  doing  in  India.  For  in 
the  latter  regard,  though  the  stage  was  small,  there  is  no 
reason  to  suppose  that  on  a larger  one  the  political  actors 
would  play  different  parts,  and  in  the  former  there  is  much 
to  fascinate  the  student  of  antiquity,  as  he  sees  how  the  dead 
past  of  Europe  is  still  a living  reality  in  the  East. 


332 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


NOTE  ON  THE  PLAGUE. 

It  was  stated  in  September,  1896,  by  practitioners  of  Bombay 
that  ninety-six  per  cent.,  some  said  ninetj’-nine  per  cent.,  of  those 
at  first  attacked  by  plague  in  the  city  had  died.  This  was  before 
any  systematic  practice  had  been  adopted,  and  when  indeed  most 
of  the  cases  were  not  treated  at  all.  The  ratio  is  surprisingly 
high,  but  it  does  not  seem  to  be  much  exaggerated.  The  best 
means  of  discovering  how  many  died  when  left  to  themselves  is 
to  reckon  not  on  the  basis  of  uncertain  figures  in  a great  city,  but 
on  that  furnished  by  a small  group,  the  numbers  of  which  can  be 
controlled  and  which  no  doctors  have  tampered  with.  At  The- 
ronda,  near  Rewadanda  in  the  Kolaba  District  of  the  Presidency, 
there  were  173  deaths  out  of  177  cases  of  plague,  until  the  intro- 
duction of  medical  men  (native  doctors  can  be  ignored)  and  sani- 
tary regulations  lowered  the  proportion.  In  Lower  Damaun,  a 
pest-hole  in  the  Portuguese  territory,  even  with  the  best  medi- 
cal attendance  there  were,  in  April,  140  deaths  a week  amongst 
a population  of  9000.  It  is  interesting  to  compare  Thucydides’ 
estimate.  Out  of  4000,  in  less  than  forty  days  1050  died  at  Poti- 
daea.  Other  points  of  comparison  with  the  Attic  plague  will 
occur  to  the  classical  student,  — its  growing  strength  as  winter 
came  on,  the  synchronous  famine  and  earthquake  (in  the  North), 
the  tendency  of  other  diseases  to  run  into  the  plague,  the  endur- 
ance of  the  body  till  its  sudden  collapse,  the  paralysis  that 
occasionally  resulted  instead  of  death,  etc.  It  was  unfortunate 
that  Dr.  Haffkine’s  serum  was  not  ready  before  the  middle  of 
January.  When  first  tried  on  the  prisoners  in  the  jail  (Jan- 
uary 30)  it  seemed  to  be  really  a preventative.  At  least,  there 
were  170  patients  who  were  not  inoculated,  and  150  who  were, 
and  amongst  the  former  there  were  afterwards  twelve  cases  of 
plague  and  six  deaths,  while  amongst  the  latter  there  were  two 
cases  and  no  deaths.  Dr.  Yersin  did  not  come  upon  the  scene 
with  his  antidote  till  March  5,  when  the  plague  was  already  in 
hand. 


NEW  INDIA. 


From  the  later  Vedic  age,  when  the  king  who  was  “ eaten 
by  the  priests  ” was  in  turn  the  “ eater  of  his  people,”  a 
striking  metaphor  has  been  preserved.  Taken  from  the 
chief  architecture  of  the  day,  it  describes  the  “ altar  of 
the  king’s  state.  In  this  altar,  the  priests  and  the  nobles  are 
“ the  bricks ; ” the  common  people,  the  agricultural  class, 
are  only  “ the  filling  between  the  bricks.”  Unmentioned 
remain  here  those  elsewhere  known  as  “ the  black  mass,” 
the  slaves,  who  have  no  place  at  any  Brahmanic  altar,  human 
or  divine. 

Beneficent  as  was  Buddhism,  in  its  doctrine  of  “ non-in- 
jury ” and  in  its  over-riding  of  caste-distinctions,  it  was  routed 
by  Brahmanized  civilization,  though  the  latter  was  deeply 
affected  by  it.  Under  the  later  Brahmanic  kings  the  people 
were  nominally  protected.  The  king  took  one  sixth  of  the 
fanner’s  grain.  But  the  king  ruled  through  vicegerents, 
military  commanders  who  were  also  revenue-collectors.  In 
Max  Muller’s  opinion  they  were  simply  revenue-collectors,  but 
even  if  this  extreme  view  be  wrong,  as  I think  it  is,  there 
remains  the  fact  that  these  vicegerents,  called  Supervisors, 
governed  for  the  king  over  ten,  an  hundred,  a thousand  towns, 
and  their  support  was  drawn  from  the  towns.  The  rapacity 
of  royal  officials  was  a favorite  literary  theme,  and  the  whole 
system  was  one  that  clearly  made  for  secret  extortion.  Manu 
says  that  the  king’s  officials  “ are  usually  rascals,  who,  though 
appointed  to  protect,  steal  the  property  of  others.”  In  feudal 
states,  the  native  kings  sometimes  took  half  the  nobles’  reve- 
nue, drawn  from  the  doubly  impoverished  peasants. 

The  Mussulmans  came  next,  whose  rule  was  “ anarchy  and 


334 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


oppression.”  Two  Moghuls  are  credited  with  virtues,  the 
“apostate”  Akbar  and  his  grandson,  Shah  Jalian.  Under 
them  flourished  the  Zamindars.  Akbar’s  great  revenue  rose 
steadily,  both  under  his  son,  a dissolute  hypocrite,  and  under 
his  magnificent  grandson,  whose  costly  military  expeditions, 
court  luxury,  religious  endowments,  and  own  fabulous  fortune 
were  paid  for  by  a tax  that  never  ceased  to  increase  till  Aur- 
angzeb,  the  “ Louis  XIV.  of  India,”  completed  the  misery  of 
the  people.  There  were  too  Afghan  kings  who  are  wished 
back  by  the  believer  in  antique  felicity.  Such  was  Firoz  Shah, 
of  whom  a modern  critic  of  present  conditions,  a Hindu  sigh- 
ing for  the  past,  ingenuously  writes : “ The  historian  of  this 
monarch  expatiates  on  the  happy  state  of  the  raiyats  who  lived 
in  that  day,  the  great  content  of  the  people,  and  the  general 
happiness  of  the  realm.  This  historian  is  said,  to  be  a writer 
not  much  to  be  trusted  ” (italics  mine).  Of  course,  no  court 
historian  can  be  trusted. 

So  we  are  told  by  travellers,  dazzled  by  the  luxury  of  Ori- 
ental courts  seen  for  the  first  tune,  that  those  days  of  rapine 
and  oppression  were  blissful  days,  and  we  are  given  the  im- 
pression that  the  peasant  who  paid  for  the  luxury  was  as 
happy  as  the  king  and  honored  traveller  who  enjoyed  it.  Yet 
there  are  awkward  passages  even  in  the  records  of  such  trav- 
ellers. Thus,  one  of  them  is  cited  to  show  how  great  was  the 
welfare  of  the  Hindu  under  the  Mahratta  ; but  midway  in  his 
tale  of  brave  deeds  and  fine  temples  we  stumble  over  this : 
“ The  praise  of  good  administration  is  rarely  merited  by  Mah- 
ratta chieftains.” 

But  not  all  Hindus  extol  the  past  at  the  expense  of  the 
present.  All  extol  the  past,  to  be  sure,  and  see  in  it  virtues 
which  a more  critical  view  must  qualify  ; but  some,  while  not 
wanting  in  the  pensive  piety  of  propappolatry,  so  to  speak, 
nevertheless  see  clearly  that  the  best  foreign  Raj  India  has 
ever  had  is  that  of  to-day.  One  of  these  is  Mr.  Dadabhai, 
whose  words  carry  especial  weight  because  he  has  been  for 
more  than  forty  years  an  avowed  opponent  of  the  accepted 
British  polity.  He  sees,  too,  in  the  failure  to  appoint  Hindus 


NEW  INDIA. 


335 


to  high  offices  a violation  of  an  imperial  pledge,1  so  that  he 
has  much  to  blame  in  England’s  course.  Yet  he  says,  in 
words  which  I italicize  because,  coming  from  a Hindu,  they 
more  than  counterbalance  the  many  diatribes  emanating  from 
Occidental  reformers : “ There  has  not  been  a nation , who , as 
conquerors , have , like  the  English , considered  the  good  of  the 
conquered  as  a duty , or  felt  it  as  their  great  desire .”  And 
again  he  says,  speaking  of  his  own  wisest  countrymen : uThey 
know  that  a real  regeneration,  civilization , and  advancement  of 
India  materially , morally,  and  politically,  depends  upon  a long 
continuance  of  the  British  rule.’’’’ 

This  is  the  belief  of  the  best  thinkers  to-day  in  India.  There 
are  Hindus,  simple  malcontents,  who  breathe  out  only  hatred 
of  the  foreign  Raj.  Half-educated,  they  do  nothing  to  en- 
lighten their  countrymen.  Reckless  agitators,  scurrilous 
editors,  disappointed  place-hunters,  they  are  intellectual  mon- 
grels, a bastard  brood  born  of  a too  facile  intercourse  between 
East  and  West.  But  there  are  others,  educated  Hindu  patriots, 
sons  of  their  age,  who  weigh  well  past  and  present  conditions, 
neither  sparing  adverse  criticism  nor  withholding  praise. 
These  are  they  whose  words  should  be  heard,  not  only  by  the 
public,  but  in  the  councils  that  direct  the  fate  of  their  country. 
Their  number,  happily,  is  increasing. 

India’s  discord  was  England’s  strength.  The  Hindu  religion 
opposed  the  Mohammedan  religion,  the  Hindus  numerically 
strong  but  not  belligerent,  the  Mohammedans  belligerent  but 
numerically  weak.  But  to-day  there  are  issues  in  India  more 

1 The  royal  pledge  (of  1858)  is  as  follows : “ It  is  our  further  will  that,  so 
far  as  may  be,  our  subjects,  of  whatever  race  or  creed,  be  freely  and  im- 
partially admitted  to  offices  in  our  service,  the  duties  of  which  they  may  be 
qualified,  by  their  education,  ability,  and  integrity,  duly  to  discharge.”  The 
saving  clause  is  so  far  as  may  be,  which  is  apparently  interpreted  to  mean, 
" so  lar  as  i®  wise  to  bestow  offices  on  those  who  might  oppose  the  policy  of 
the  government.”  Little  has  been  done  to  redeem  this  qualified  promise, 
partly  because  the  British  fear  native  opposition  in  council.  Caution  in  this 
regard  cannot  be  blamed,  but  it  would  mark  the  desirable  beginning  of  a 
broader  imperial  policy  to  secure  some  representation  for  so  much  taxation. 
Mr.  (Naoroji)  Dadabhai’s  words,  cited  above,  will  be  found  on  pp.  201,  202,  of 
his  Poverty  and  Un-British  Rule  in  India. 


336 


INDIA  OLD  AND  NEW. 


important  than  the  formulae  of  ancient  creeds.  Divide  et  im- 
pera  is  ceasing  to  be  a useful  rule  of  thumb.  The  worshipper 
of  Allah  and  the  worshipper  of  Vishnu-Qiva  have  found  that 
they  have  a common  ground  to  stand  upon.  That  ground  is 
national  unity.  And  the  more  closely  the  separate  parts  of 
India  knit  themselves  together,  the  more  imperative  is  the 
necessity  for  England  to  let  India  know  definitively  whether 
the  good  she  has  done  in  India  in  the  past  is  but  the  earnest 
of  what  she  will  do  for  her  hereafter. 

INI ay  the  heart  of  that  nation  which  has  done  so  much  for 
India’s  welfare  and  yet  wrought  her,  not  always  unwittingly, 
so  many  injuries,  be  moved  to  unite  with  her  for  the  perma- 
nent good  of  both.  For,  thanks  to  England,  there  is  a New 
India,  no  longer  enslaved  but  free,  no  longer  blinded  but 
enlightened,  not  perfect  but  striving  for  perfection,  weak 
but  great,  potentially  strong,  awaking  to-day  to  the  full  con- 
sciousness of  a glorious  past  and  the  possibility  of  a still  more 
glorious  future.  Old  India  endured  and  dreamed  of  God. 
Her  bastards  revile  and  dream  of  themselves.  But  New  India 
thinks,  her  dream  is  of  the  future.  And  what  is  this  noble 
dream?  She  dreams  not  of  independence,  but  of  political 
equality  based  on  moral  likeness.  She  seeks  to  prove  that  in 
fiscal  and  judicial  administration  all  native  officials  can,  with- 
out European  supervision,  be  as  incorruptible  as  are  British 
officials,  claiming  that  to  proved  ability  and  integrity  is  due  a 
recognition  of  the  Indian’s  right  to  share  in  the  government 
of  the  Indian’s  country.  So  may  her  dream  be  accomplished, 
and  may  England,  even  at  some  seeming  cost,  be  ready  to 
meet  her  halfway,  proving  in  her  turn,  and  before  it  is  too 
late,  that  she  cares  less  for  revenue  than  for  righteousness. 


INDEX. 


22 


INDEX. 


Long  vowels  in  Sanskrit  words  are  here  covered  with  a makron,  in  other 
words  with  a circumflex.  Short  a is  pronounced  like  u in  punch;  the  cor- 
responding long  vowel,  like  aw,  Panjab  and  Mahabharata,  for  example,  being 
pronounced  punjawb,  and  muhawb-hawrata,  respectively.  Short  a is  frequently 
transcribed  by  e or  o as  well  as  by  a and  u.  Thus  Bengal  and  bungalow, 
bostan  and  bustan  (garden),  Menu  and  Manu,  bunia,  and  vania.  Europeans 
usually  mispronounce  long  a,  for  example  in  Raja,  which  should  be  pro- 
nounced rawja,  the  u sound  (compare  dance,  ‘ daunce’)  being  antique  as  well 
as  modern,  as  shown  by  the  interchange  of  dva,  dvau  (duo),  dada,  dadau 
(dedi)  in  Vedic  forms.  Sanskrit  e and  o are  always  long. 


A^oka,  122. 

Afvaghosa,  136. 

Aga  Khan,  324. 

Agni,  93. 
agraliara,  224. 
agriculture,  211  ff. 
ahinsa,  v.  non-injury. 

Akbar,  244,  334. 

Akhyana,  tale,  71. 

Alexander,  98. 

Alexandria,  123. 

Amaru,  61. 

Anacreon,  62. 
animal-gods,  107. 
anustubh  (verse),  42. 

Apollo  Bunder,  289. 

Apollonius  of  Rhodes,  67,  71 ; ro- 
mancer, 124. 

Apsarasas,  97. 

Arjuna,  the  White  Knight,  or  Silver 
Knight,  the  ideal  hero  of  the  great 
epic,  58,  72,  76. 

Artillery  Volunteers,  313. 

Asita,  128. 

Atharva  Veda  (the  fourth  Veda),  23, 
24. 

Aufrecht,  26. 

Aurangzeb,  245,  334. 
avatar,  defined,  105. 

Badex-Powell,  206  ff. 

Bagalya,  95. 

Bagh  Deo,  112. 

Bardesanes,  124. 


Barth,  164. 

Battlestrong,  yudhisthira,  name  of  the 
Pandava  (Pandu)  emperor,  72  ff. 
Beas  river,  48. 

Bhagavad  Gita,  gita,  72,  148  ff. 
Bhaiachara  village,  227. 

Bhairava,  Bhairoba,  101. 
bhakti,  148. 

Bharata,  brother  of  Rama,  80  ff.,  91. 
Bharata,  for  Maha-Bharata  (the  great 
epic),  q.  v. 

Bhartrhari,  60  ff. 

Bhatias,  185. 

Bhimasena,  god,  97. 

Bhuts,  97. 

Birs,  97. 

Bombay,  described,  266  ff. 
boy,  bhai,  310. 

Brhaspati,  222. 

Buddha,  105,  120  ff. 

Buddhacarita,  128,  135. 

Buddhism  and  Christianity,  122  ff. 
Buhler,  223. 

bunia  or  bania,  same  as  vania,  q.  v. 
Burnell,  243. 

busti  (basti,  dwelling),  268. 

£akti,  111. 

£akuni,  “ the  Hawk,”  name  of  a Kan- 
dahar epic  character,  71  ff. 
^akuntala,  60. 
cchotamari,  266. 
chaudhari,  200. 
chawls,  268  ff. 


340 


INDEX. 


Cholas,  242. 

Christ  in  India,  120  ff. 

Christ-child,  162. 

Christmas,  date  of,  166. 

Christophoros  legend,  166. 

Chunder  Sen,  105. 

Qiladitya,  167. 

gitala(devl),  100,  115,  311,  322. 
Citrakuta,  name  of  a mountain,  87. 
Qivaji,  105,  243. 
ploka,  epic  verse,  64,  71. 
Cloud-Messenger,  meghadiita,  title  of 
a poem  by  Kalidasa,  61. 
cremation,  304. 

Crooke,  99,  108. 
crore,  273. 

cubbonize  (from  Cubbon),  255. 
cutchra,  271. 

Davaratha  (“having  ten  war-cars”), 
King  of  Oudh,  80  ff. 

Da  Cunha,  91,  276,  306,  311. 

Dadabhai,  Naoroji,  334  ff. 

Dakhmas,  305. 

Daityas,  97. 

Dandaka,  name  of  the  great  forest 
south  of  the  Ganges,  84. 

Dante,  90. 

Davids,  Rhys,  131,  136. 

Dawn,  32,  38,  93  ff. 
dhobis,  310. 
dialects,  24. 

disease-demons  (v.  gitala),  99,  311. 
Divali  (dipall),  299  ff. 
drama  (v.  epic),  60,  70. 
drought,  235  ff. 

Dubois,  106. 

Duff,  91,  237,  243  ff. 

Dutt,  237  ff. 

Dyaus,  93. 

Dunds,  103. 

East-wind  (god),  95. 
elves,  rbhus,  98. 

epic,  25,  56,  67  ff.,  69  ff. ; modern  epic, 
91. 

Essenes,  139. 

Eusebius,  124. 

Famine,  230  ff. 
famine-relief  fund,  254. 
fetish,  108. 

Firoz  (Feroz)  Shah,  334. 


Gandharvas,  97. 

Ganges,  39,  68. 

Gatacre,  General,  325. 
gathas,  29. 

Garuda,  110. 
gayatri  (verse),  42. 

Geldner,  169. 
ghost-gods,  102. 

Gita,  v.  Bhagavad  Gita. 

Gnosticism,  147 ; Gnostic  monument 
in  Syracuse,  124. 
gobar,  270. 
gods,  study  of,  92  ff. 
goldsmiths,  171. 

Gondaphares,  141. 

Grace  of  God,  147. 

Gubernatis,  Count,  90. 
guilds,  169  ff. 

Guimaraes,  epic  of,  91. 
gumasta,  187. 

Haffkine,  Doctor,  serum  of,  332. 
lialalkhores,  271,  310. 

Hardaur  Lala,  103, 112. 

Hardheart,  duhgasana,  “hard  to  rule,” 
a Kuru  prince,  78. 

Hastina  (also  Hastina-pura),  the 
Kurus’  capital,  a town  fifty-three 
miles  N.  E.  of  Delhi,  formerly  on 
the  Ganges,  which  has  now  left  it 
seven  miles  away.  It  is  now  a mere 
ruin.  The  name  is  said  to  mean 
Hastin’s  town  or  perhaps  elephant- 
town,  71  ff. 

Hesiod,  60. 

Himalaya,  32, 128. 

Hitopade?a,  60,  96. 

Holdich,  Colonel,  101. 

Holi,  96, 328. 

Hunter,  243  ff. 

Hyndman,  237,  254. 

Iliad,  67,  88  ff. 
impartible  property,  217. 

Indra,  32,  37,  48,  52,  322. 

Indraplain,  Indrapat,  the  Pandavas’ 
capital,  the  original  site  of  Delhi 
(now  five  miles  away)  on  the  Jumna. 
The  name  means  Indra's  plateau  or 
place,  71  ff. 

Invincible,  duryodhana,  name  of  a 
Kuru  prince,  72  ff. 
irrigation,  238  ff. 


INDEX. 


341 


Jackson,  130. 

Jaban,  243,  334. 

Jains,  171  ff. 

Janmastami,  162. 

japa  (prayer,  japa,  rose),  142. 

Jatakas,  133  ff. 

Jishnu  Krishna  (jisnu),  162. 
joint-family,  215. 

Jolly,  207. 

Jumna  (yamuna),  39,  52,  103. 

Kabalas,  198. 
kabandhas,  103. 

Kaegi,  151. 

Kaikeyi,  wife  of  Dayaratha,  80  ff. 
Kali,  in  this  form  a dice-demon,  72; 
in  the  form  Kali,  the  wife  of  Qiva, 
277  fE. ; Kali,  wife  of  Indra,  322. 
Kalidasa,  60  ff. 

Kansa,  163. 

Karma  doctrine,  127. 

Katha,  “ tale,”  equivalent  to  Akhyana, 
epic  narrative,  91. 

Kavya,  artificial,  artistic  poetry,  71. 
khandias,  306. 

Khojas,  324. 

Khokaladevi,  311. 

Krishna  ( krsna , “ dark  ” ),  as  a mascu- 
line, ending  in  &,  the  name  of  an 
avatar  of  Vishnu ; as  a feminine, 
ending  in  a,  the  wife  of  the  Pandus, 
72,  76  ff.,  105, 120  ff. 

Krishnaism  and  Christianity,  146  ff. 
kundadhara,  cloud-god,  95. 

Kurus,  anglicized  plural  forkauravas, 
sons  of  Kuru,  epic  heroes,  71  ff. 

Lakh,  273. 

Lakshman,  laksmana, brother  of  Rama, 
86  ff.  The  name  means  “ having 
lucky  signs,”  Felix. 

Lalbhai  Dalpatbhai,  Sheth,  176,  205. 
land-grants,  224. 
land-tenure,  206. 

Lanka,  Ceylon,  88. 

Lalita  Vistara,  128, 131, 134  ff.,  136. 
Latham,  272. 

Lely,  179  ff. 

Llamaistic  Church,  141  ff. 

Logos,  147. 

Lorinser,  151. 

Lotus  (of  True  Law),  131  ff.,  134  ff. 


Love,  god  of,  63. 

Lyall,  243,  247. 
lyric  poetry,  36  ff.,  69. 

Madonna-wobship,  162  ff. 
Mahabharata,  67  ff. 
mahajanas,  173,  178. 
mahamari,  266. 

Mahrattas,  242,  334. 

Maine,  H.,  206  ff. 

Mandara  (Battenberg),  58. 

Manthara,  slave  of  Kaikeyi,  80  ff. 
Manu,  170,  207,  210  ff.,  215, 218  ff.,333. 
Marwaris,  308. 

Megasthenes,  246  ff. 

Meshris,  177. 

Metres,  39,  71. 

Moghuls,  244  ff. 

Mohammedans  (v.  Sunni,  etc.),  168. 
Momba  Devi,  100,  311. 

Mombaym,  original  form  of  Bombay, 
311. 

momiai,  291. 

money-lender  (same  as  usurer),  252  ff., 
259  ff.,  308,  310. 
monotheism,  168. 

muccadum,  boss-workman,  201,  310. 
Muller,  Max,  92,  128, 133, 143, 151,  333. 

Nagas,  107. 
naigamas,  170. 

Nakula,  brother  of  Battlestrong,  76. 
Nala,  72. 
nasasalars,  306. 

Nibelungen,  67. 

Nissi,  Night-goddess,  96. 
non-injury  doctrine,  149,  212,  333. 
nyat  (jati),  201,  205. 

Ojha,  teacher  (from  upadhyaya),  wiz- 
ard, 103  ff. 

Oppert,  175. 

Oudh  (from  ayodhya),  68,  80,  172  ff. 

Pali  forms,  46 ; tradition,  136. 

Panch  (punch),  Panchayat,  178  ff. 
Pandus,  anglicized  plural  form  of 
Pandu,  properly  Pandavas,  “sons 
of  Pandu”  (the  Pale),  epic  heroes, 
71  ff.  " 

pankti  (verse),  42. 

Pantaenus,  124,  141. 


342 


INDEX. 


Parcival,  67. 

Parsees  (v.  Dakhma),  319,  324. 
Parusni,  62. 

Patel]  178,  227. 

Pattidari  village,  227. 

Pifacas,  103. 

Pinjra  Pol  (“  cage-  yard  ’’),  191  ff. 
plague,  cases  of,  265 ; symptoms,  276 ; 

mortality,  293,  297  ff.,  332. 
prasada,  147  ff. 
priests  as  gods,  105. 

Proetor-Sims,  180  ff. 

Punjab  (Pan jab,  “ Five  Rivers  ”),  30  ff., 
172. 

Pur  ana,  Puran,  “ancient”  (tale),  91, 
162'. 

purdah  (parda)  women,  288  ff. 
purohita,  104. 

Pusan,  39. 

RAiYAT-village,  220,  227  ff. 
rajakali,  241. 

Rama,  hero  of  the  Ramayana,  80  ff., 
105. 

Ramayana  (“journeys  of  Rama”), 
67  ff.,  80  ff. 

Ranuji  Sindia,  91. 
rats  and  plague,  282. 

Ravi,  52. 

Rig  (fg)  Veda,  23  ff. 
rosary,  origin  of,  142. 

Rudra,  46. 
rupee,  272. 

Sahadeva,  brother  of  Battlestrong, 
76. 

Salisbury,  Lord,  233,  257. 

Saman,  Sama  Veda,  23. 

Sandhurst,  Lord,  325. 
sattas,  198. 

Schroeder,  L.  von,  67. 

Severalty  village,  227  ff. 

Seydel,  125  ff.,  132,  143. 

Sheth  (frestha),  172  ff.,  177,  179. 
Shravaks  (9ravakas),  177  ff. 
shroffs,  308,  310. 

Sita,  Rama’s  wife,  87  ff.  The  name 
means  “ furrow,”  as  Rama  is  “ sun,” 
in  the  allegorical  base  of  the  Rama- 
story. 

sixth-taker,  title  of  king,  242. 


Skambha  and  Skandha,  98. 

Small-pox  goddess  (v.  Qitala),  322. 
Soma,  33,  40,  93. 

Spencer,  H.,  92. 
strikes,  202. 

Sudas,  52  (the  accent  here  indicates 
metrical  quantity). 

Sunnis,  324,  328. 

Sutlej  river,  48. 

Suttee  (sati),  104. 

Taxation,  238  ff.,  333  ff. 

Thucydides,  332. 
tiger,  use  of,  230  ff. 

Times  of  India,  272  ff.,  280,  297. 
totem,  108. 

Towers,  v.  Dakhmas. 
trees,  animate,  95. 
tristubh  (metre),  44,  71. 

Unitariaxism,  160  ff. 

Upanisads,  24,  25,  28,  55,  57,  146. 
usurer,  v.  money-lender. 

Vac,  98,  147. 
vadi,  guild-hall,  187. 

Vaigya  (v.  Wesh),  212. 

Vanias  (bunyas),  185,  200. 

Varuna,  32,  38,  100. 

Vasistha,  51  ff.,  219. 

Vata,  47. 

Yalmiki,  69. 

Vergil,  67. 

Vifvamitra,  48  ff. 

Vidura,  75. 

villages,  kinds  of,  227  ff. 

Vishnu  (visnu,  “flyer"),  sun-god  and 
the  Supreme,  79,  etc. 

Vyasa  (nom.  form  vyasas),  69,  159. 

Weber,  162  ff. 

Wesh  (vaisya),  200. 

Yajnavalkya,  219. 

Yajus,  Yajur  Veda,  23. 

Yama,  40,  102. 

Yamuna,  v.  Jumna. 

Yersin,  Doctor,  332. 

Zamindar,  zamindSri,  245  ff.,  258,  334. 
Zoroaster,  29,  128,  129. 


Date  Due 


N 20  '35 

D 

AP11’55 

f) 

